Code Blue
by angelofplottwists
Summary: [AU] As the indentured servant of a different sort to a doctor who may or may not be insane, Watanuki thinks he's got it bad. But things are about to get a great deal worse.
1. Prologue: The Watcher

_I wrote this for xturncoatxiii at LJ a while back, and somehow it expanded into a series. A huge series. I'll try to update weekly, but don't hold your breath. Especially once November shows up._

_Expect cameos. Lots of cameos. Not necessarily only CLAMP character cameos._

_And please, review!_

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Darkness had fallen when Watanuki returned to the place he was loathe to call home, and yet he knew someone was watching him. It was strange and more than a little frightening, all the more so because the same thing had been happening for the past month. 

It had all started when he was taken into the possession of the wealthy doctor whose name was still an unknown but whose reputation for cutting-edge technology hushed up the more sinister rumours of experimentation that shouldn't have been legal. Watanuki never would have chosen to go into service at this place, but he hadn't had a choice. With his debt, it was that or the military, and military was not option for someone who would have the possibility of meeting the people he killed afterwards. Vengeful spirits were bad enough when their wrath was bent upon someone else.

But the doctor had smiled kindly at the courthouse and signed the papers without asking a single question. Somehow that had made Watanuki wish for a second he had chosen the other option. But that had passed, and when he learned the truth of his situation it was already too late.

The reason he was so late in returning to his own little niche in the doctor's huge estate was that he had passed out after the day's work. This work had involved painful chemicals in his right eye – not for the first time for a long shot – which was by now completely blind. It had also involved making the rounds of – were it possible – less fortunate test subjects than he, who lived out their relatively short lives in small cells and hated his guts for his liberty. Not that it was worth much.

He'd felt as if someone were watching almost ever since the first time his eye had been tampered with, and was beginning to think it wasn't a spirit as he'd expected. For one thing, the watcher had never shown itself or made sound, unlike most spirits Watanuki had met thus far. And once he'd heard muffled noise – as if the watcher was trying to hush it. A spirit would not have made such noise, or would not have bothered trying to mask it. But the alternative was that it was a human, and what human would spend almost a month watching _him_ of all people?

Tonight Watanuki did not merely shrug the feeling off and sleep. This was mostly because he was not thoroughly exhausted, thanks to the bout of unconsciousness. Instead, he stopped before the small shed-turned-sleeping quarters that he had unhappily called home for the past six months or so and looked around. "Who's there?" he called softly, suspiciously.

A soft thump was all the warning Watanuki received; by the time he'd started turning around the presumed watcher had grabbed him and pulled him down. "Quietly!" he – it was definitely a he – ordered in the lowest voice audible. "You don't want to be heard."

"What do you know?" Watanuki demanded as softly, finding himself growing more annoyed than panicked. "The guards are all around the wall, anyway."

"There's worse things," his captor said in such a matter-of-fact tone that Watanuki was almost inspired to violence. He refrained – barely – and snorted quietly instead.

"Doesn't matter," he elaborated. "Could you get off of me?"

"Will you listen?"

Watanuki had been contemplating making a break for it as soon as he was free, but in spite of himself nodded and furthermore stayed put when he was released – although the grip on his right arm had helped to persuade him to follow this course of action. Turning his head, he could just barely see his captor. No details could be discerned, and poor vision coupled with no depth perception did not make trying to do so any easier.

"Good," Watanuki's captor told him. "You're working for the doctor?"

"I'm indebted to him," Watanuki felt the need to correct. "I had no choice!"

"I'm not making comments about your lack of judgement skills," the man replied. "I'm making sure I have the right person."

"And if I'm not?" Somehow, Watanuki felt he wouldn't like the answer.

"I silence you and keep going."

He had been right about not liking the response. "How do you know I'm the right person?" he asked with no small amount of fear and irritation. Mostly fear.

"I don't," the man said, as it were the obvious and logical response. "I was sent here to find the one who Doctor Kyle hired most recently, and speak to him. I've been watching you for the past month. Are you him?"

"Yes, I am," Watanuki said, "but I don't know everyone that comes and goes here," he pointed out.

"He doesn't hire very often," his captor told him. "You sound young enough to be the most recent."

"Young enough?" Watanuki asked.

"Young enough," came the reply.

Making a decision he hoped he would not come to regret too much, Watanuki made to stand up. He was pulled back down. "I'm just going to open my door," he explained irritably. "Then I can sit down comfortably and you can explain, because I'm tired and I don't enjoy sitting in the wet grass and listening to someone I can't see at all unless I turn my neck to uncomfortable angles, and then only indistinctly, not to mention the fact that I'm freezing cold and you might be at your leisure to work all night but _I _have to get up early in the morning and –"

"I'm not staying," the man interrupted calmly. "I'll be back tomorrow night."

"I – what?" demanded Watanuki, at a loss for words for the first time in a long time.

"I need your name," the man continued.

Watanuki hesitated for a moment, then realised that no further request would be forthcoming. "It's Watanuki Kimihiro," he told the man, and felt his arm be released from its former grip. "You could just ask, you know! And you should tell me yours. It's only polite."

The man didn't say anything for a moment, and Watanuki just about gave up on a response. "Doumeki Shizuka," was the final response, and before anything else could be said his shadow climbed up the nearby wall and disappeared from view. After a moment, Watanuki stopped staring in disbelief at the spot he'd last seen it and finally entered the shed, muttering very quietly about rude late-night visitors and the incredible injustice that was his life.


	2. First Favour

_Next chapter yes. Er. Nothing important to say here.  
_

_Review?_

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True to his word, Doumeki was waiting the next night as the subject of his watching returned to the shed. Watanuki was limping – for once because of an accidental injury. He'd tripped fallen on one of the long stairways and bruised his hip. Although the way thing were looking, it was probably worse than a mere bruise, especially considering he hadn't been able to walk properly on it since. But it was relieving to have an injury that wasn't due to experimentation or spirits. Accidental injuries had never given him nightmares or permanent scars, he thought, fingering his now-blind eye. 

"Oi," was all Doumeki said to announce himself. He watched with no discernible amusement as Watanuki jumped half a meter in the air, although that was difficult to know for sure as the darkness obscured his face very effectively.

"I have a name!" Watanuki snapped. Quietly. "Are you actually going to tell me something useful this time? Or will I have to endure more of your crazy hinting?" He opened the door to the shed and glared meaningfully at the man who really shouldn't have been able to be there at all.

Doumeki complied, moving into the light, and Watanuki was shocked to see not a man after all but a boy about his own age. The halfhearted hopes he'd been attempting to ignore all day crashed down around his feet. There was absolutely no way that a mere boy of sixteen could get him out of there. Assuming that was even the purpose of his being there. It was amazing enough that Doumeki had made it this far alive.

"There something on my face?" the boy in question inquired.

"Huh?" replied Watanuki, distracted by disappointment.

"You're staring."

With no real retort to that comment, he sputtered indignantly and stalked inside. Doumeki followed without further comment and sat himself against one wall, managing to make himself look perfectly at home. It had to be on purpose. Watanuki was outraged despite the fact that up until now he'd had no love or even tolerance for the shed he slept in. Hell, Doumeki was welcome to it. But that didn't mean he was welcome to it while it was still in Watanuki's use, he argued to himself angrily.

"So?" he demanded of his invited but unwelcome guest. "Why is it you've been watching me for the past month?" He folded his arms and glared, knowing he probably failed at looking menacing but content in the fact that he had a completely legitimate reason for being annoyed. Not that the other reasons weren't, of course…

"What do you know of Doctor Kyle?"

"Doctor Kyle?"

Doumeki visibly sighed. Somehow, he also gave off the impression that he rarely did so. "The doctor you work for. His name is Kyle."

"Just Kyle?" Watanuki was thrown for a minute before collecting the information he was meant to. "You're telling me that you went to the trouble and danger of sneaking into the guarded residence of some crazy bastard just to ask one of his overworked indentured servants about the guy? Are you out of your _mind_?" He stopped to examine the statement. "Never mind. Of course you are. Isn't that just my luck, to be saddled with this insane job _and_ another crazy who's been stalking me for a month!"

"There are others in your position?" Doumeki cut in.

"I don't know!" Watanuki snapped. "You think he'd tell me that kind of thing? I'm lucky if I know where I am! I _don't_ know where I am, most of the time! This could be anywhere!"

"Third wall in, western side, just outside the middle house," Doumeki replied as if reciting lines. "What do you do here?"

"Sleep, normally," the servant grumbled, trying not to yawn even if it did prove a point.

"In your job, idiot."

Watanuki shot his guest a furious glare, outraged beyond outraged, and contemplated throwing him out then and there. Or strangling him. "Just _who_ are you calling an idiot?!" he demanded. "At least I don't go around _stalking_ people in the most _dangerous_ gardens in the world! At least I don't turn up and insult people in their own homes!"

"Keep it _down_," hissed Doumeki, and Watanuki clapped a hand over his own mouth. For a few agonising seconds, he stayed perfectly still, not daring to breath. But nothing happened, and after a moment he relaxed to glare again. His guest responded with a roll of the eyes.

"You _are_ an idiot," he pronounced, but Watanuki didn't rise to the bait a second time. "I asked you a question."

"My job is whatever the doctor asks of me," Watanuki grumbled, still seething. His leg chose that moment to complain, and he sat down hard on the ground with a sharp exhale.

Doumeki leaned forward. "What happened?"

"It's nothing," Watanuki protested, not wanting to show a weakness to this intruder who persisted in making him look bad and incapable of knowing even simple things like where he was. "It doesn't matter."

But Doumeki only raised an eyebrow, and waited. Ten seconds passed. Thirty. A minute.

"…I fell," Watanuki mumbled, breaking the stare first and looking down. "On the stairs. You happy now?" He pulled himself back up into a standing position, but his hip didn't seem to want to comply and he fell back down again. Doumeki continued to watch him, expression unreadable.

"I can help," he finally said, extending a small bottle of what looked like pills. "Standard issue painkiller. It's strong."

Torn between accepting eagerly and refusing with fear for his life, Watanuki stared at the bottle. The one holding it finally shook his head as if surprised by the level of stupidity exhibited, and opened the bottle and shook three pills out. "Take two unless you can't function because of the pain," he said. "Three will send you to sleep."

Watanuki shrugged. "I need to sleep anyway."

"You won't like this sleep." The way Doumeki said this made it sound less than an idle claim, and Watanuki found himself hesitating. After a moment of indecision, he selected two and downed them under scrutiny.

After a moment, he felt he should repay this somehow. "Ah…have you eaten?" He pulled himself over to the small shelf where he kept what food was allotted to him and pulled out the soup he'd made a few days before. "I don't have too much here, though."

Doumeki eyed it with interest, a surprising expression on his usually blank face. "It's beef stock?" he inquired.

"Are you _requesting_ specific types of food now?" Watanuki demanded. "I have what I have! It's not as if I can decide what kind of things they'll give me!" He regretted ever making the offer to feed this intruder, but it was too late to change his mind now. With no discernible remorse, Doumeki joined him, taking the soup container before Watanuki could object.

"It smells like beef stock," he commented, apparently ignoring the glare he was sent.

"It is! But that's besides the point!" Watanuki retorted, feeling as if there was a contest going on that he was losing horribly. Doumeki didn't smirk, but somehow gave the impression that he had as he selected a mug from Watanuki's carefully scoured collection of two and helped himself.

About to complain, Watanuki took a step forward and realised that the pain in his leg was completely gone. Somehow, this didn't help.


	3. A Day in the Life

_This chapter through chapter five were all meant as one, originally, but grew to enormous size and killed me. So I split the chapter into two, and later three._

_Review?_

* * *

Limping to the laboratory, Watanuki thought back and wished he'd thought to take the extra painkiller for later. His left leg was a solid mass of pain, and it was all he could do to drag it along and stay upright. _Must have been more than a sprain_, he thought, resigned but not at all happy with the turn of events. When he finally reached the lab, he had to stop and brace himself against the door for a minute before limping in.

The doctor was already there, and smiled genially at him. "Good morning," he said. "We'd like you to bring one of the 'D' specimens this morning to the corresponding sector. There will quite a few of us…" Watanuki gulped as the doctor's gaze rested on his blind eye, and stared resolutely at the wall. "Instead of cleaning sector A, I'll have you stand by to assist." With that, the doctor swept from the room, starched white lab coat trailing along behind him.

Watanuki shuddered involuntarily. It was not that the doctor somehow felt wrong – it was that despite his seemingly kind demeanor, the doctor had _proven_ to be utterly twisted. He had smiled in that kind manner each time he'd carried out experiments on Watanuki's eye, and while it was entirely possible that the doctor could be feigning, it was more likely that Dr. Kyle saw himself in the right and had no problem using other people for his purposes.

Which was, for someone in Watanuki's position, not too much better.

He waited until the doctor had been gone for several minutes before going about his business of general tidying-up. The fact that this was the most enjoyable part of his job probably said worlds about the state of his existence, but he didn't really reflect on this much. This was mostly because after he cleaned whichever sector he was assigned to that day, he was charged with feeding the test subjects themselves. He wouldn't have minded it so much, but for two reasons.

The first of these was that the test subjects were kept in such appalling conditions that it was painful to see them. Everything was sanitary, yes, and they weren't malnourished, but they were human, and they were kept in tiny cages and unable to really interact. Most of them stopped talking after a while, but long before that they stopped getting along with the people who surrounded them. There was only one cause they really united over, and that was the second reason Watanuki hated this task.

They all hated him. They hated him with almost all the passion that they reserved for the doctor himself. Watanuki didn't know why – maybe it was simply because _he_ wasn't caged, and could still function normally – or almost normally, since he'd lost use of that eye. Whatever the reason, though, it made his job incredibly difficult because they acted on this hatred. On a good day, he'd get jeered at. On a bad day, they'd attempt to attack him, and while results varied, he'd suffered mild concussion before when he hadn't gotten out of the way fast enough. It didn't seem to matter that he was just as captive as they in his own way.

And today there was the added guilt of having to select someone for the dreaded fate of being taken into the experimentation room. Watanuki knew only too well what went on in there. It seemed unlikely that the subject of today's tests would return afterwards – maybe they would live, but probably not in any condition of use to the doctor. Doctor Kyle had moved on from eyes to brains, and while so far he'd been working with hypnosis, the fact that he'd invited guests today meant that he was working on something new. And he never decided on the subject ahead of time, but left that unpleasant task to his indentured servant.

Finished cleaning, Watanuki donned the prescribed lab coat and mask and braced himself for the next item of business. He fetched the pushcart upon which the test subjects' food was kept (the same soup he often ate himself, at the doctor's unspoken preference) and wheeled it into the elevator. This took him and the cart down to the lower level, where all four holding rooms were. Here, almost everything was painfully white and smelled strongly of the doctor's antiseptic. The first room was small and contained the records of everything that didn't have to do with the specialized experiments. Another one of Watanuki's jobs was to keep these records up-to-date.

Through another door was the first of the containing chambers. It was large room in comparison to the one before, again white and smelling strongly of antiseptic. Its most notable features were the rows of metal cages that nearly filled it. Each cage was just big enough for an average-sized adult to lie down in – about half the size of Watanuki's shed – and contained one of the doctor's test subjects. They were not grouped in any particular pattern, but the air of desperation they exuded and the one-size-only white gowns they wore gave them the appearance of all looking exactly the same.

This first room seemed to be more subdued today, which Watanuki made note of. The doctor had started a small experiment on sleeping patterns and had been drugging their water, which Watanuki guiltily felt grateful for. His leg was still in pain; he didn't think he could deal with a wild crowd.

The second room was the most active, and although he escaped too much abuse as he made his rounds with the food, his hip was throbbing with pain by the time he completed the third room and made his way into the fourth. Instead of beginning the feeding process, he limped over to a small table on one end where two boxes rested. Instantly the attention of the entire room came to rest on him, and silence abruptly descended.

Watanuki had felt awful making selections about whom would be experimented on, and so after the first agonizing experience, he'd found a way to avoid at least having to make the choice himself. Each person had a number that they were given that corresponded to their cage's position, and so it had been fairly easy to come across some paper and write down each number down on a separate ripped piece. He'd then found some abandoned boxes and filled one with the papers. He'd draw a random number each time necessary, and if they returned fit to be used again he would put them in the other box to prevent them from having to be used again for a while. It wasn't much, but at least no one had too much experimentation. Not that it really helped anyone but his conscience.

He'd wanted to be nonchalant, but that was difficult to do and he'd failed at it. Figuring he might as well get it over with, he shakily announced, "138," and tried not look around for the eyes of the person in question. Instead, he returned to the cart and, with no small struggle, began the task of distributing food. The silence was not broken, and his stomach twisted guiltily.

Once finished, he selected the appropriate key from the table and unlocked the appropriate cage, avoiding eye contact with everyone he could. "Follow me," he whispered, and set off, half-hoping the subject in question – a woman, he guessed, although it was uncertain – would try to run for it. But her footsteps followed him precisely, and they left through another elevator. At least they wouldn't have to parade through the other three chambers.

The woman was silent for a while, but once Watanuki had exchanged the food cart for the equipment table and limped off behind _that_, she gave him an odd look. "Why…are you limping?" she asked timidly, as if expecting anger. "And your eye…"

Watanuki realised after a moment of surprise that she must have been relatively new here, to bother speaking to him at all. Technically he wasn't supposed to talk to or with the 'experiments,' as the doctor walled them, but since she'd actually addressed him civilly… "I fell," he replied. "I don't know what I've done to it. And the eye was in an experiment." He didn't really feel like going into detail; that was a rant he saved for when the doctor's ears had no chance of being nearby – or rather, never.

But the woman seemed sufficiently impacted. "He experiments on you?" she gasped. "Isn't he your father?"

"My _what_?" Watanuki was taken aback. But that theory did explain the treatment he received from the other test subjects.

"The others said you were his son, and he was training you," she replied.

Watanuki stifled the reply of 'Like HELL!' he had wanted to give and settled for "I don't…think so. I'm not here by choice."

She didn't say anything else until they reached the outer area of the designated lab. "Wait here," Watanuki instructed. "I have to take this in first…" He took a step toward the door; she followed. "If you're trying to escape, I don't mind," he added. "But it's not very likely you'll succeed. He almost hoped she _would_ run, _would_ escape. But that was more than unlikely; it was impossible.

The woman seemed to realise this too. "Just…you're different than what they say," she said. "Can I ask your name?"

"Watanuki," he replied before opening the door to the inner lab and wheeling in the table.


	4. Hypnotism

_A word of warning - this chapter is not exactly for the squeamish. Intentionally creepy and with violence. So consider yourself warned. But enjoy anyway._

_Also - you've probably noticed, but I've designated Tuesday as my FFN update day. I've a nicely-sized backlog saved up for NaNoWriMo, when I will not be writing CB but want to continue to post, and posting once a week will enable me to keep said backlog large enough to last me through the month._

_Review?_

* * *

Doumeki never made rash decisions. He'd made some bad ones, of course; everyone did from time to time. But he'd never done anything without a great deal of analysis. 

Looking at his position now, though, he wished he had analysed more carefully this time. In an effort to get a look at Kyle in action, he had spent a large amount of the night climbing through and air vent and was now situated perfectly above the lab that the doctor was currently making use of. It was an excellent idea _in theory_, but in practice Doumeki found that he had a difficult time getting comfortable in a space ever so slightly too small for him. It was a task and a half to refrain from making a sound, and the freezing metal pressing against his sides did not help matters much.

Several other men had trickled into the lab to join the doctor by now, and were engaged in a rather heated debate regarding hypnosis and the uses thereof. Doumeki's impression was that most of the other men disagreed with Kyle's views, but didn't have a great deal of evidence to support their beliefs. Most of the talking consisted of loud scoffing.

As Doumeki began to wonder if there was a way he could readjust himself without making too much noise, the door to the laboratory opened to admit another figure in a lab coat and mask who wheeled before him – or perhaps her, although there were no other women present – a shelving unit decked with what Doumeki supposed were medical equipment. It rattled with every step its bearer took, and the observer couldn't help but notice that these steps were uneven, perhaps because of a limp. A discomfiting conclusion presented itself to Doumeki, and he strained for a better view.

Dr Kyle ended up proving Doumeki correct, however. "Thank you, Watanuki," he said in a curiously kind tone that nonetheless raised the hairs on the observer's neck. A strange and irrational fear gripped him for a moment, fear that was definitely an overreaction for possible danger towards a witness. He didn't have much time to contemplate this, however, as the doctor continued. "Have you brought the experiment?" Watanuki nodded, and Doumeki realised that whatever was happening now would happen to someone else. The thought was oddly relieving.

_Focus. The job comes first._

Watanuki exited via the same door he had entered through, and a man to the doctor's right turned and complimented Kyle on finally keeping a servant for a long enough time for a proper training. The doctor nodded.

"He's an excellent worker," Kyle replied agreeably. "Even after we ruined his eye, he didn't falter." He muttered something else into the ear of the colleague standing next to him, something Doumeki couldn't catch, and both laughed. "Pity he'll be useless after the transfer," the doctor finished, sounding a trace sad but still ominous.

"But to have a rival to the LS project! Surely that's worth an assistant or two!" protested another of the spectators, a faceless man in a mask and lab coat like the others.

"Seven," Kyle corrected, and odd gleam in his eye, and Doumeki felt his metaphoric blood freeze. "I have gone through seven assistants, seven failures, while _he_ sits on his own project. I needed something to truly rival his project. There's a reason that this eighth is such a perfect specimen, and it's the same reason he's such a capable assistant. So yes, of course it's worth it," the doctor explained in a voice both warm and freezing as he walked to the table Watanuki had left and selected what looked ominously like a drill. "To have the completed project is worth it. But you must understand, it is a sacrifice."

Doumeki had never in his life wanted to say something as badly as he wanted to now; to point out that Watanuki could hardly be a sacrifice to someone who only saw him as an object, but that would be the worst possible course of action. He wondered a bit then at the anger he was currently experiencing and came to the uneasy conclusion that he really was becoming attached to the boy. The witness.

Things didn't seem to go too well for him these days.

"What will you call it?" the man next to Kyle inquired. The voice woke Doumeki from his uncomfortable thoughts with a hint of familiarity. He couldn't place it, but there was _something_ that touched off an odd sense of déjà vu.

"The Fool," Kyle replied with the air of a man who has told a joke that no one else will understand. Doumeki found that he was torn between further anger and the wry thought that Watanuki was more of an idiot, anyway.

At this point Watanuki returned through the same door, followed by a pale woman in a white hospital gown. While the boy stiffened as if suddenly halting whatever action he'd been engaged in, _she_ surveyed the lab with an expression and air of resignation evident on her wan face. She seemed too dignified for the position she was in.

Watanuki made to leave once she was in the room, but to the boy's apparent trepidation the doctor restrained him with a well-timed hand on his shoulder. "Stay," Kyle commanded. "I'll need you to help a bit later." An expression of raw fear crossed very quickly through Watanuki's face, and it was all Doumeki could do to stay still.

_Focus, Shizuka._

"My friends," Kyle announced formally with a dramatic sweep of one hand. "Allow me to present to you the fruit of my long endeavors!" He turned to the begowned woman and began a series of seemingly meaningless hand gestures. For a while, nothing seemed to change, and Doumeki caught himself yawning. Focusing again, he noticed that the woman seemed to be swaying and transfixed by the repetitions of hand motions. "Now, observe," the doctor continued. "In this state, she in not only prone to suggestions –"

Quite a bit of skeptical muttering broke out at this statement. The doctor waited until it abated, showing no outward impatience but a few telltale signs of agitation that Doumeki prided himself ever so slightly on picking up from his angle: the shift of weight, the aborted attempt to run a hand through neat black hair tied loosely at the neck. Finally, the buzz died down, and Kyle continued in a voice only slightly more tense than before. "As I was saying, in this state I can not only control her consciousness but also…I can make her immune to pain, if I so choose." With a flourish, he turned back to the swaying woman. "You cannot feel this," he commanded with a new hand motion.

Then he struck at her; a line of red appeared on her cheek and Doumeki realised that the doctor had been holding a knife. The assembled group gasped collectively but Watanuki possessed the same look of wary resignation that had once adorned the face of the now-hypnotised woman. This probably wasn't the worst that could happen.

The woman herself did nothing, seemingly unaffected by the relatively deep cut in the side of her face. Kyle smiled, a wild look in his eyes, and flourished the knife again, leaving a new gash in his "experiment's" arm. Still she swayed.

"And observe," the doctor spoke up again, taking hold of the woman's other arm. "The extent of the power of my hypnosis!" He held the hand steady and raised the knife, and before the action registered with the onlookers he had severed the smallest finger. Blood spurted onto the floor, and Watanuki made a strangled noise that sounded like a cry being bitten back. Before Doumeki could wonder why, Kyle had turned to his assistant.

"Watanuki," he said with a sickeningly sweet voice, "what have I said about loud noises during these experiments?" Watanuki's face drained to a pure white, and the boy whispered something that Doumeki could not hear.

"I don't want to have to reprimand you again," Kyle continued. "You remember last time, I imagine? Good. Now please, stay silent." He returned to the bleeding woman and with a small cylindrical object cauterised the wound.

_What was that?_ Doumeki wondered, doing his best to suppress another urge to get down there and end this, and more importantly (or least importantly, theoretically) get Watanuki out of there. But he steeled himself and watched as the doctor proceeded to shave a spot on the woman's head and drill a small hole in her cranium. Watanuki had gone from white to green. He did not seem to be the only one there who was disturbed by the process, but probably the most disturbed.

The woman continued to sway.

"And now I demonstrate the final result of my recent studies," Kyle proclaimed, procuring a small metallic object and lifting it into the light with a long thin pair of tweezers. "Constant mental control by suggestion." He lowered the tweezers and their prize into the hole he'd drilled and then proceeded to fill it with a gooey plaster-like substance. The swaying ceased, and after a while the woman blinked.

The pain seemed to hit her at that point, for she winced and crumpled into a crouch on the ground, trembling and clenching her unhurt hand. Undeterred, Kyle pulled out a syringe and injected some chemical into her arm. It must have been a painkiller – and a strong one – because after a minute or so the woman uncurled warily.

"She is conscious now, of course," Kyle said to the assembled onlookers. "But she's been introduced to certain symbols now. So, say I do _this_ –" He waved his hands in one direction and took a step forward. The woman followed suit a half-beat after. Watanuki blanched but apparently had taken the warning to heart and said nothing. Doumeki noted at this point that his hands had clenched into fists; he did not quite know when this had occurred.

Kyle proceeded to lead the woman through a series of different movements, to the initial skepticism but now-growing interest of his audience. Doumeki watched through it all, though his concentration tended to shift from the doctor's explanations and procedures to the assistant's face. Watanuki was a much more interesting topic, with vivid expression replacing each other and colliding as he struggled to refrain from making a sound.

The experimentation seemed to be winding up when Dr. Kyle finally made good his promise that he would need his assistant's aid. "Watanuki, restrain her," he ordered. "Hands behind her back, like last time."

The boy cringed, possibly in recollection (although it was equally likely that Kyle was just that intimidating. Doumeki knew he wouldn't have appreciated taking part in this either.), but stepped forward as ordered and held firmly to the woman's wrists. The doctor made another more complex series of hand gestures and then snapped his hands apart.

The woman did as requested, and with an audible _crack_ broke free. Watanuki's face contorted with pain for a second, and then, with control that Doumeki wouldn't have believed the boy possessed if told before, resumed his expression of endurance.

"If it's broken, there is a splint in the box," Kyle told him. "Deal with this afterwards." He then exited, followed by his colleagues and the slightly puzzled-looking woman.

Doumeki wanted to get out of this air vent, wanted to help Watanuki with the situation he'd been left in, but knew the only thing he could do at this point was get out and write a report. Even with the doctor absent, noises made would still be heard, and he couldn't risk finding out if Watanuki's previously unknown ability to keep his mouth shut would apply to an intrusion by Doumeki. There was also the very present problem of getting out safely. So far, the air vent seemed the only plausible way of doing so.

But, he resolved as he slid his way backwards to the vent he'd originally used to get in, he would go back to Watanuki's shed tonight and see what else he could possibly do.

--


	5. Something He'd Like To Forget

_The final installment of that chapter that wouldn't stop. Not, may I add, the final installment of part one. By a long shot. _

_Review please?_

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Watanuki limped back to the shed, feeling very much the worse for wear. He wasn't sure if his left wrist was broken or otherwise injured, but it hurt like hell and didn't seem to want to work properly. That added to the pain in his leg, which hadn't eased much if at all, meant that he had taken nearly twice as long as usual to finish the rest of the day's work, and it was the dead of night by the time he reached his destination.

To his surprise and irritation, Doumeki was waiting outside. Before he could get a word in edgewise, the other boy spoke up. "Painkillers," he said.

"I'm_fine_," Watanuki replied before he thought, and instantly regretted it. Fortunately, Doumeki ignored the comment entirely and held out a pair of the capsules he'd offered the previous night.

"You have something to drink?" he continued, miraculously grabbing for Watanuki's right wrist and not the injured left. The injured boy considered making a fight of it, but decided against that plan of action. It wasn't as if there was much he would be able to do, and Doumeki was actually doing something useful even if he was also being an ass about it. He suffered himself to be led inside, and tried to discreetly accept the support in a way that Doumeki would not notice. The taller boy did smirk at him as he sat down, but that could have been for any number of reasons.

Watanuki pointed out where he kept the all-important water stash, and schooled the relief out of his features when he was given the two capsules and one of the mugs full of water. Doumeki, now in the albeit dim light, looked troubled, although Watanuki couldn't say how. But the fact that the seemingly emotionless agent (or whatever the hell he called himself) found something to be wrong…was troubling.

After some amount of time passed, it became clear that whatever was troubling Doumeki had something to do with Watanuki – he'd been staring at him for a while now, and the agent looked perhaps more concerned than before. Watanuki was wondering how long it would take to find out what this troublesome thing might be, and whether or not it would be worth it to try and find out – or even if he wanted to know – when the other boy finally spoke.

"Does the doctor usually use unwilling humans in his experiments?" he asked, tone giving nothing away.

Surprised into speech, Watanuki replied, "He does. He's got a –" About to say more, he remembered how little he knew about the purpose of this investigation and fell silent. By the time he'd come to the conclusion that it probably didn't matter, as he wasn't really important enough to be affected by things like that, it seemed to late to finish the thought.

But Doumeki had apparently heard what he needed. "What happens to them when he's finished with the experiments?" he continued.

"Depends," Watanuki replied shortly, not really wanting to think deeply about that particular topic. The situations he knew the most about included the times when the test subject was no longer able to function alone – if at all. "If they aren't 'damaged', as the doctor says, they go back to where they were beforehand," he elaborated.

"And if they _were_ 'damaged'?"

Watanuki, refusing to think about the fate that awaited the 'damaged' ones and the task that awaited him at their presence, did not answer.

"What happened to the woman this afternoon?" Doumeki persisted.

For a long moment, Watanuki could only stare in bewilderment as his mind tried to process the information that _somehow Doumeki knew._ Unless he had a contact with one of the men who'd witnessed it, he couldn't have seen it. Or maybe he was actually there? But that was impossible, the logical corner of Watanuki's mind reasoned. Dr. Kyle had spoken to all of the men there, knew them to be trustworthy enough to see his work. But they _were_ all ambitious and would not be averse to finding out extra things any way they could.

Somehow, though, it didn't seem likely that Doumeki of all people could be an associate of Dr. Kyle. The boy wasn't tactful enough to deal with that kind of person – or old enough to be worthy of the doctor's time.

"The…woman?" Watanuki replied, trying to sound neutral and probably only succeeding at sounding nervous.

"The woman in the experiment," Doumeki elaborated. "What happened afterwards?"

"Why does that matter to you?" Watanuki demanded.

"It's my business."

"_How_?" he yelled, clapping his hands over his mouth a second later in horror. Again, he did not seem to attract unwanted attraction. Doumeki did not seem to be fazed at all.

"My job," he said matter-of-factly, as if that were the _obvious_ answer and Watanuki must be the epitome of stupidity for not knowing what Doumeki's purpose here was besides apparently stalking him, not to mention for even bothering to ask. "So, what happened?"

Watanuki glared, refusing to tell this guy _anything_ out of sheer spite. With a sigh, Doumeki stepped closer. "I need to know this. If not from you, I'll find out somehow. It's easier to ask you." He folded his arms and waited as Watanuki fidgeted under his stare.

Finally the injured boy gave up. "The doctor showed her off to a bunch of his guests. Then he took her off somewhere."

"What then?"

Watanuki looked away. "She didn't come back to where the subjects are kept," he muttered. He had _liked_ that woman, as little as he knew of her. Of his entire world, she had been the only person who had treated him well, as someone who maybe could have been a friend. She had been _kind_. So he didn't want to speak of what he knew had happened to her, beyond the obvious.

Fate was not so kind – or perhaps it was merely Doumeki who purposely crushed his hopes. "You know what the doctor did to her after that," he said. It wasn't an accusation. Somehow, that made things worse. Watanuki said nothing, and did not return his gaze to Doumeki's face.

"If I have to find these things out the hard way, this will take more time," Doumeki informed him. "What did he do?"

"Maybe I don't want to talk about it," Watanuki muttered.

"I'm sorry?"

"I_don't want to talk about it_!" he hissed, thoroughly angry now. "I'm tired and still in pain and I _don't_ want to talk about her or what happened, so leave me the hell alone!" He glared at Doumeki with as much venom as he could and shoved the other boy away for good measure. This may have been a calculated error, Watanuki realised, as Doumeki's eyes narrowed. Even in the anger and sense of having screwed up, seeing Doumeki with expression was still an intriguing sight.

"I'm trying to _help_," Doumeki said icily. "The least you could do is cooperate."

"I'm_not interested_," Watanuki spat. "What have _you_ got to gain from helping me? Why the hell would you even _care_ what happens to me?"

That seemed to be the last straw. "_Because I saw what he did to you today_," Doumeki snapped, face suddenly far too close and set in anger. Watanuki froze as this knowledge sunk in. What the doctor had done…he didn't even want to think about. He _couldn't_ think about. Doumeki didn't know _anything_ about that, and he _never would_.

After a few minutes of tense silence, Doumeki seemed to have controlled _his_ anger. "The _last _time?" he demanded in a calmer tone. "What did he mean by that?"

The last time…no. Watanuki would not think of that. He _could_ not. There was a _reason_ he wouldn't, couldn't think of the last time, and it _wasn't_ something he could explain. "No," he said, trying not to shake, willing himself to _stop thinking_ and get _away_ from this dangerous train of thought. "No. I won't." Too easily memory teased him, offering a hint of panic, enough to start him off. The room whirled crazily. "No."

Doumeki's eyes in front of him, stable in the center of a crazily spinning room, narrowed in some foreign expression. "Watanuki," he said, reaching out a hand to grab a shoulder, perhaps shake.

"Don't touch me," Watanuki hissed, jerking back. "_Don't touch me_!" he tried to command but ended up pleading. No, no, he told himself. He couldn't, couldn't, couldn't start now. And he _couldn't_let anyone see him like this. "Get out," he whispered. "Get out."

For a moment, Doumeki stayed put, and Watanuki amid the panic grew even more fearful. He couldn't keep from shaking any longer. But finally the other boy stood up, a helpless expression on his face. He reached out, but then pulled his arm back, and without another word turned and left.


	6. From Beyond

Friendship does not come easily to Watanuki, does it? Thanks to Mercurial Phoenix for the dialogue help in the second part of this chapter.

Review, please! (Especially if you don't like it.)

* * *

The next night, Watanuki was not exactly surprised to come back to an empty shed. He _was_ rather irritated over the fact that this mattered to him, but could not shake off the nagging disappointment. Obviously Doumeki would not be here, after being told in such clear words that he was not welcome. And the boy wasn't welcome here – at least, not very welcome. Maybe a little. Only because Watanuki never had any other company, and having Doumeki around did help with the feelings of isolation. 

There was no way of changing the past, and it was really the bastard's own damn fault for causing Watanuki a panic attack. He'd been a while without one, too. Sighing, Watanuki pulled out a solitary mug and was about to see about feeding himself when a light touch on his shoulder nearly made him drop it. When he turned around, he came face to face with not Doumeki but a figure who seemed to consist mostly of white smoke. It looked strangely familiar, and after a while he realized this was because it resembled exactly the subject of the doctor's last big demonstration.

Watanuki knew she was dead. Which meant one thing: the spirits, which had been conspicuously missing for a while now that he thought about it, were returning. It had once been that each time a test subject was killed, the spirit would make an angry visit to the shed. Most of these involved Watanuki running for his life across the garden and hiding in an otherwise-unused shrine. He never wanted to wait and see what exactly the spirits wanted with him, as it could hardly be a good thing.

But this woman had been kind when she was alive, and Watanuki hardly thought she would have changed too much in death. Mustering up his will, he tried to think of something to say.

She beat him to it. "Watanuki Kimihiro," she intoned in a voice that sounded as if it came from across an ocean. Listening as intently as he was, Watanuki fancied he could hear the seagulls' cries. "This is an urgent message." Her face flickered, as if the illumination had been moved within her to a different center. "Your empty eye…do not let him take it."

Another flicker of her face, and suddenly it became much clearer. She visibly started, as if only just noticing him. "Oh – it's you…"

"But…you were…you were!" Watanuki couldn't think of a coherent way to phrase his confusion, and settled for waving his arms as if that could somehow communicate what he was failing to say. The spirit-woman smiled kindly at him, expression clearly stating that she appreciated the effort even if it was a failure.

"I couldn't come sooner," she told him apologetically. "_He's_ been here, after all. But that's a good thing." She sat down, hovering a good few centimeters off of the ground. "He keeps the angry ones away as well."

"He?" Watanuki asked, already with an idea of who she meant but wondering what the hell Doumeki had to do with anything.

"The boy who was here last night and this morning," she explained. "That one. We can't touch him, and only the strong ones can go near him. I am glad you have such a good friend."

Watanuki stared for a moment. "Oh, he's not a friend," he replied offhandedly. "And what do you mean, you can't go near him?"

"He repels us," the woman told him. "I don't know why, only that we cannot go near him. If he comes too close, we are pushed away." Watanuki noticed that she seemed to be much less visible now, and seemed almost to be fading. The shock must have shown on his face; she looked down and smiled apologetically. "Oh, I am sorry. I suppose that now that I've done what I needed to do, I'm moving on."

"Moving on?" Watanuki repeated.

"I had to warn you," she said. "But I suppose I did, and that's why I started working again."

"Working?"

By now the woman was barely a mist hanging over one wall. "Being in control," she told him. "Good luck, Watanuki Kimihiro. As long as you have that friend of yours, you should be safe." With these words, she faded completely, leaving only a cold area on Watanuki's shoulder where she'd touched him and a question: what did Doumeki have to do with his safety?

--

To his surprise and irritation, but also unmentionable relief, Doumeki turned up the next night. "I had to make a report," he said tersely by way of explanation, and Watanuki found he didn't really want to know the contents of said report. Instead, he scowled and passed the other boy a mug of soup, trying not to meet his eyes. Now that Doumeki was here, the discomfort of being alone with frightening thoughts was gone and the awkwardness of being in the presence of one who'd seen him in a full-fledged panic attack remained.

"I'm going to keep investigating the doctor," Doumeki stated, as if to the world at large and not the insignificant being sitting next to him. Watanuki bristled at the sense of dismissal and refused to grace the comment with the answer that seemed to be expected. "I'll be here a while yet," the boy continued, seemingly unaware of the hostility his words were being greeted with.

Watanuki studied the floor and wished he had the nerve to tell Doumeki to leave him and his business alone. But he was starving for company, any company, and he didn't want to be left alone with his thoughts. It would be bad enough later.

But silence apparently did not suffice. "You can ignore me," Doumeki said. "It won't change anything."

"I'm_not_ ignoring you," Watanuki replied in what he hoped was not a petulant tone. "I don't have anything to say to you."

Doumeki didn't say anything more, but after a while Watanuki realised that the silence is not only incredibly awkward but has also become a statement. _Two can play at that game_, it said in an annoyingly familiar voice. This he did ignore – Doumeki was _not_ allowed inside of his head – and finally gave in to the inevitable.

"What more do you have to investigate?" he demanded of the other. "Haven't you seen everything?"

"His motives," Doumeki replied calmly, apparently refusing even to acknowledge that he'd won. This was even more aggravating than the fact that he _had_ won. "Who supports him. Where he's getting his funding. What he's doing. You."

Watanuki stared. The first emotion that hit his surprised mind was confusion, which was followed very quickly by anger and fear and the slightest hint of gratification that was all but trampled out of existence by the others and therefore was not paid attention to. After a strangled silence, he finally collected himself into a coherent pile. "…I've already told you everything I can," he began, trying not to clench his jaw.

"No. You haven't."

Having a good idea of the subject of Doumeki's indirect inquiry, Watanuki said nothing. There was no chance he would talk about that. Last time had taught him a lesson – he couldn't _think_ about that, let alone speak of it. He glared instead, hoping it would be taken as the warning it was intended to be.

It wasn't. "You still haven't told me what he did –"

"I'm_not going to talk about that_!" Watanuki snapped, unable to resist the urge to clench something and feeling his hands curl into fists. "You _know_ this already So _drop it_."

A glint of the emotion from the last time they'd had this discussion returned to flash in Doumeki's eyes before subsiding. "I won't," he stated. Despite his customary flat tone, Watanuki couldn't help but sense some underlying motive or emotion, one that he didn't even want to learn of.

Instead, he fell back on anger. "WHAT IN THE _WORLD_IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU'RE INVESTIGATING _DR KYLE_, NOT _ME –_"

"You called him that again," Doumeki commented. "Why?"

"Called him what? His name? I happen to find that convenient!" Watanuki replied with no small amount of hostility. What did it _matter_ what he called the doctor? In any case, it was his business and his business alone.

Doumeki seemed to actually care about this, though. "It's always _Doctor_ Kyle. You act as if you respect him."

"What does that matter?" grumbled Watanuki, not wanting to admit that it was force of habit by now, habit to prevent a much worse fate than Doumeki's disapproval. Disapproval wasn't painful, and nor did it leave scars of any kind. The lines on his torso were enough reminder of this to last him a long time. It was easier, much easier, to call the doctor as the doctor desired.

But Doumeki did not know this, and Watanuki was not about to enlighten him.

"Why do you call him that?" he persisted, much to Watanuki's dismay. The half-blind boy mumbled something he himself couldn't understand and half-hoped that it would be enough. As he'd expected, it was not. "Don't."

"It's not like I have a choice," Watanuki muttered in a slightly louder voice. "He enforces it."

"Enforces it." Doumeki's voice changed not a whit, but the atmosphere was suddenly much tenser. "How?"

But that was another thing in the long list of unmentionables, so Watanuki replied with a vague, "If I don't call him properly, Dr. Kyle isn't pleased." The fate of those that did not please the doctor would be left up to Doumeki's imagination, which probably wasn't all that extensive anyway. But it should be enough to stop any more questioning. When Watanuki chanced a glance at the other's face, at least, it looked pensive. The other emotion there was one that was better left unnamed as Watanuki saw it. He didn't really want to know why this was important.

Finally Doumeki appeared to reach some internal conclusion, although he didn't seem happy about it. "The doctor isn't here now. Don't call him that when he isn't around," he told Watanuki as if it naturally followed that the order would be acknowledged and obeyed.

Like hell, thought Watanuki. "Don't tell me what to do!" he said aloud, angrily. Doumeki responded with a Look that could possibly outstare statues.

Watanuki glared at the floor, refusing to concede. "You're here to investigate Dr Ky –"

"Who?"

The nerve, Watanuki grumbled to himself. "To investigate _the doctor_, then. Not me. The doctor. So will you please stop asking me questions and ordering me around?" He was proud when nothing coloured his words but irritation. All sorts of other emotions lurked too close for comfort on the edge of this conversation.

Doumeki sent him a long, searching look, but didn't give away what he found. "You should sleep," he said. Before Watanuki could protest, he was yawning hugely, thus killing any of his arguments.

"Fine," he said, and proceeded to climb under the pile of tattered blankets and ignore his uninvited visitor. He did find it in him to feel a little grateful when Doumeki turned out the light on his way out, though.


	7. An Effective Method

And the plot thickens...

Sorry about the delay in posting. I've been rather busy, and stressed with NaNo, and I completely forgot. Nevertheless, review? If only to tell me off?

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Pausing for a breath midway through his cleaning, Watanuki surveyed the damage once again. Since the last time he'd been this area of the building, far too much dust had accumulated. Watanuki sighed before attacking it once again with the duster, wondering how the hell Kyle had managed on his own. Then again, judging on the conditions of his test subjects that were referred to as "humane", the doctor obviously didn't have very high standards of living.

That, or he was lying through his teeth, which was considerably more likely.

"Watanuki," said the doctor. The addressed boy froze, having been unaware until then of the fact that he was not alone. "I am worried about you," the doctor continued in a tone of voice that promised an ill fate if the request he was about voice was not complied with or the question he wished to ask was not answered. He smiled, not the toothy smile of a crocodile but one laced with falsehood. Watanuki had a suspicion that the doctor, if unable to conceal his true expression, would still be smiling. But in a much crueler way.

"A – are you?" the indentured servant replied uneasily.

"But of course I am," the doctor replied. "How could I not be concerned at this…anomaly in behaviour? You must understand that you have been behaving quite unusually lately." Watanuki tried not to show his alarm, and tried his hardest to imagine what he could have done differently enough to attract the doctor's attention. Surely it was not a deterioration in work quality, or consumption of food. Unless the doctor somehow knew about the painkillers…

"I admit, the first few nights I had assumed it was some passing thing, perhaps a restlessness that comes with growing older. But I was rather concerned when this pattern continued over the span of a week and several days more," Kyle continued, seemingly unaware of Watanuki's sudden and almost certainly visible realisation. "It is troubling, though, to see you go without sleep. I myself have noticed your light on far beyond the time it is normally extinguished, and have been told of shouts. I can only assume that you have been suffering from some sort of affliction." Suddenly the doctor's face grew grim. "I fervently hope that is what it is, for if not…the alternative would be open betrayal. And I would so hate to be forced to deal with betrayal, especially from such hardworking, _loyal_ assistant such as yourself, Watanuki."

Watanuki was at this moment contemplating how he could explain himself without hinting at the possibility of any contact with any other humans. He should have known that he would be heard, should have realised that there was no way in hell he would have the good fortune to go unheard at all, let alone each of the times he'd lost his cool and yelled at Doumeki. "I've had insomnia, sensei," he finally said in what he hoped was a calm voice. It would be bad if the doctor could hear the hesitation and infer that this was a lie.

"I do hope you're right," was all the doctor said about it. "But surely you know, Watanuki, of the sleeping pills located in the cabinet which you have access to. Surely it would be no problem for you to use them. I assure you that they are not in any way tainted by my experiments."

"It's just that you haven't given me permission," Watanuki replied, thinking fast. That was the one argument that had saved him in several times when he would otherwise have surely suffered the doctor's favorite forms of punishment. That and the excuse that he wasn't used to only one useful eye.

As expected, Kyle relented. "You're correct," he replied. "I shall change that. Tonight, once you have completed what work you have to do, you will take two of those pills and go back to your shed. I will expect to see the light off within moments of your arrival there. I trust your sleep will be…undisturbed." The smile disappeared. "Believe me when I say this, Watanuki. If it is not extinguished, I will be forced to believe that you have lied to me, and that you are engaging in some other activity, and thus have disobeyed me twice. I will not take well to such betrayal."

Watanuki gulped. "Yes, sir."

"Need I send someone with you to ensure that you don't fall asleep on your way home?" the doctor inquired, smile returned in full force.

"There's no need, sensei," Watanuki said, desperate to keep the alarm from his voice now. The doctor's smile widened – possibly proof that the attempt had failed – but he said nothing more on the topic.

"Report to Sector B tomorrow, if you please," he told Watanuki before sweeping out to leave his indentured servant to cleaning.

The rest of the day passed in both agonizing slowness and frightening speed, and by the end Watanuki was exhausted, both emotionally and physically – to the point that sleeping pills were redundant at best and probably not safe at all, especially considering the strength of the dosage that Kyle would prescribe to full-grown men and women who most likely were all but uncontrollable. But the doctor had insisted that pills be taken, and he would surely have his ways of knowing if the order was disobeyed, so Watanuki only stared doubtfully at the pale green pills for a minute before downing them and making his way back to the shed as quickly as he could.

They began to kick in during the last hundred-meter stretch, and he all but passed out cold in front of the shed door. But predictably, or at least predictably if Watanuki had been more lucid, a pair of hands grasped his arms and a concerned Doumeki materialized. Except the concern most likely could be attributed to Watanuki's exhaustion, as could the almost entire lack of protest. "…'M capable of walking," he muttered.

"Oh?" Doumeki asked, but did not release his grip on Watanuki's shoulders. The latter found he appreciated the help, but in his much-diminished-but-still-present horror at such a sentiment said nothing. He would accept help – this time – but he's be damned if he would show appreciation for it.

Then again, lack of appreciation didn't really seem to faze Doumeki. Had Watanuki been more awake, he might have been alarmed by the revelation. As things were, so long as he was able to sleep sometime soon, and preferably not while Doumeki was supporting him, life would be tolerable until the morning. And the morning could be sorted out then.

Once inside, Doumeki switched on the gas light to Watanuki's barely coherent protest. "Doctor said…not to," he mumbled, desperately trying not to think of what it was he was leaning against. "Or he'd send…someone…"

The light went off. "What happened?" Doumeki asked in the tone of voice that generally accompanied the moments when he was unhappy about how events were unfolding.

"Made me take sleeping pills." His eyes barely able to remain open, Watanuki edged out of the other boy's grip and in the vague direction of his sleeping corner. He collided instead with a wall, momentarily stunned by confusion more than injury. He hadn't been moving quickly. Doumeki, presumably with the same inscrutable expression he always wore, picked Watanuki up and dropped him in the correct corner before any struggles could be made. Watanuki was asleep before he could object.


	8. A Messy Effect

More creepy stuff, so if you don't like blood or injuries or that kind of thing...well, I'm guessing you've already stopped reading at chapter four. But. Just so you know, that'll be around.

I have noticed that there are twenty people who have this story on the alerts. Needless to say, I am flabbergasted. And also a wee bit confused - if twenty people watch it, how is it I routinely receive about seven reviews tops? I'm not going to beg for more (only ask politely), but think about that.

* * *

The lab was dark when Watanuki entered. Relief did not come for the apparent safety; doing nothing for the rush of adrenaline that refused to subside. His chest felt too light, as if something essential had escaped without his prior notice. The doctor's absence did not signal the level of likelihood that Watanuki would be subject to experimentation, only that he would not be faulted with the inexcusable sin of lateness. The real indication came from the fact that he had been left no orders to keep any of the usual test subjects unfed, and this said that it was Watanuki's turn to suffer whatever the doctor had in mind. Needless to say, this conclusion did not sit at all well with him or appease his nerves. 

The doctor entered a few minutes later, switching on the lights and appearing mildly surprised to find Watanuki already there. The expression quickly faded, almost quickly enough that it could have been taken for a trick of the light, and Kyle pulled into the room an equipment table, slightly larger than the one Watanuki had provided him a few days before. "If you could lean against the brace to your right," he instructed with a gesture in its general direction, proving Watanuki correct in regards to his involvement. The boy winced inwardly – it was foolish to show reactions of displeasure to the doctor – but obeyed. There was really no alternative.

Kyle wheeled the equipment table after his indentured servant and extracted an ominous-looking syringe. "I really must commend you on your cooperation," he commented, fastening the arm straps around Watanuki's wrists and the boy's body to the brace via a vinyl belt. "You really have made this much easier on yourself. I'm pleased that you learn with such extraordinary speed."

Knowing that no answer was expected or even desired, Watanuki merely speculated that it was not learning that gained his compliance. It was probably one of two things: lack of suicidal tendencies, or lack of will. It would have been nice to have the strength of character to make a break for it, but he knew better. Death was the least of a long list of possible horrible fates that awaited him should he "betray" the doctor. After one escape attempt had ended with laughter – not on his part, of course – and that other incident had occurred, the only thing he'd learned was what he'd already suspected – it was impossible to do anything _but_ comply. And the few times in which resistance was not impossible, it was a _really bad_ idea.

"Now, if you would hold still…" This was a moot order; Watanuki was bound to the brace and could not have moved if he had wanted to. And he had no fear of needles; the sensation of the flesh under his elbow being briefly punctured did not much faze him. He could understand how others might fear it, but Watanuki liked to think that he was of a practical mind. After suffering all the indignities and downright horrors he had in not only the recent past but to a lesser extent his whole life, he had worse things to worry about that injections.

Worse things like the spirits he could faintly see on the other side of the room, hazy and listlessly drifting about the laboratory. These were the shades of the doctor's test subjects who had died while the anaesthetic still had a hold on their minds and bodies, creating an after-death effect that numbed the "senses". They had no individual character, and no real purpose, but could not go on to wherever spirits went because they could not be fulfilled in death. Somehow, these were worse than the regular spirits, who often tried to visit harm to Watanuki but at least tried to do _something_. These spirits were disturbing in a way that the others never could be, and their only redeeming factor – that the other spirits seemed to find them as distasteful as he did – was not enough to encourage Watanuki to spend time with them unless he was in the lab on duty.

Worse than that, perhaps, was the immediate danger he was in whenever Kyle was around. Particularly in the lab. But, Watanuki mused as his vision blurred, at least that was human intent and something he could directly affect, however little change he could actually make.

As the train of thought began to run out of tracks in the face of the growing fog in Watanuki's head, Kyle pulled out an instrument of a disturbingly large size and pointiness. Suddenly the boy was fervently grateful that he was falling unconscious and not merely losing feeling. His last thought for a long while was a desperate wish that he would wake up, and wake up intact if at all possible…

--

Watanuki woke up to a dull ache throughout his entire body, but focused where the belt still restrained him and in the area around the left side of his ribcage. The lab light was dimmed but still hurt his eyes that only slowly were focusing again. Kyle stood off to the side with an expression of satisfaction. "How do you feel?" he inquired with what Watanuki had come to recognise as interest rather than concern,

Truth be told, Watanuki was feeling terrible. Aside from the ache and stiffness, his stomach was unsettled and nauseated, and through all this was a sense of lightheadedness. If his chest had felt over-light before, now it was far too heavy – abnormally so, almost. And he was freezing cold.

"I'm well, sensei," he replied. As poor as he felt, he really did not want to aggravate the situation as he knew another answer might do. Even in the best of possible situations, there would be no help offered if he complained of anything the doctor had done to him. In any case, Kyle's resulting smile – merely an increase of the satisfaction already painted clearly in his visage – proved that the correct answer had been supplied.

"And can you breathe easily?" he continued.

"Yes, sensei."

A rectangle of glass was thrust in front of Watanuki's face for a moment. "That seems to be in working order." The glass was withdrawn and a few moments later the restraints released; Watanuki fell forward without the support the brace had provided. "You'll probably feel as if you're drunk – if you knew what being drunk feels like. You should be able to make your own way back to your home," Kyle commented. "Your duties may be considered finished for the evening. You're in no condition to –"

A clang from above halted the doctor's speech. "What was _that_?" he muttered. "It sounded as if it came from the air vent…"

Watanuki froze. _The air vent. Doumeki._ Unnoticed by the frowning doctor, he stumbled in the direction of the lab door, trying to get out as quickly as possible. Doumeki wasn't the best of all people, but that didn't mean Watanuki wanted him to be caught by the doctor or his guards. That was a fate he would wish on no one.

Walking was far more difficult than he'd suspected it would be. For one thing, his already-failing sense of balance was completely out of order now, and the walls seemed to close in on him if he stayed too long in one spot. Each step caused a sharp pain along the left side of his torso, which throbbed dully the rest of the time.

After what seemed an enternity of blurry hallways, he made it outside where the sun had set and odd red glow of twilight was all but gone. The only difference this made was that footing was more uneven, but falls were softer. _Step, lurch, step, lurch_ became a pattern, and he could almost ignore the pain if he concentrated enough on not falling over. He was so wrapped up in his patterns that he walked into the wall on his shed.

"What are you doing, walking?" inquired a voice behind him. Doumeki. He should have known.

"Getting out," Watanuki retorted. "Doc – _Kyle_, I mean, he heard you. In the air vent." Now that he'd stopped moving, the world was tilting and spinning crazily. "Di – did you see what he, what he…" His head was foggy again, and the ideas and words were floating off somewhere in the ether. "To my chest," he finished.

"You're bleeding," Doumeki observed in a tone that sounded inconceivably like concern.

"I, I can – what?" Watanuki looked down. Sure enough, his formerly off-white shirt was a much darker hue along his left side, and the stain was slowly spreading. That explains the lightheadedness, he thought calmly. He wondered exactly how he was so calm, and attributed that to blood loss. "I think…I'm going to fall over."

Before he could hear the response, the fog in Watanuki's head had completely obscured his thoughts and the world rolled up into a tiny ball and he fell from it as everything disappeared.


	9. Aftershocks

Obligatory dream sequence and POV switch. Sorry this took so long. I blame NaNoWriMo (which I succeeded at!) for everything.

Review?

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"Watanuki," a voice was calling, but Watanuki couldn't tell where from. He followed the sound from a place where the ground was dry and grainy underfoot and something enormous roared nearby to a rock face. The voice was coming from above, so he climbed the rock, slightly aware of the sun on his back, not at all warm. He began to notice he was growing colder the more time he spent in the light, but he hurried onward. Finally he reached the top of rock face and looked around.

The sun was still sapping heat from his back, although the edge he'd just climbed over was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he was standing on yellow sandstone as far as the eye could see. A green mist floated past his nose; it smelled vaguely familiar, almost human. "Watanuki," the voice called again, and the sun vanished. "Watanuki."

Suddenly it was hot, too hot. Behind him the heat was worse, so Watanuki ran forward, somehow knowing that to look back was to doom himself to whatever followed behind. The stone beneath his feet crumbled as he ran, nearly tripping him several times. The heat behind him fluctuated, sometimes gaining on him, sometimes dropping back.

"Watanuki," the voice insisted. "Watanuki, you're bleeding."

While running, he brought a hand up to his chest and examined it; it was covered in bright red blood. His arm was also red, and when he looked down, so were his feet. Blood was running onto the ground, and he realised that this was how the heat was following him. If only there was a way to make the bleeding stop!

The ground abruptly ceased to exist beneath him, replaced by more green haze and wind. The blood dried quickly on Watanuki's skin and did not seem to be increasing in quantity. But he was falling now, falling far too fast to land well. "Watanuki!" the voice called again. "Open your eyes, Watanuki."

His eyes were open. But he closed them, and opened them again.

At first all he could see was darkness. Then the pain hit him again, all the more apparent for the time Watanuki had spent without it. He bit his tongue out of habit to refrain from making a sound, but somehow one escaped anyway. Something cool was held to his lips, and after a while he realised it was a cup, more importantly filled with water. As he drank, he processed what he could remember of the immediate past through a slowly-waking brain.

"Doumeki?" he finally asked.

"Hn."

Watanuki sighed, disliking what he was about to do. "Do you have any of that…that…that painkiller?" His head pounded.

A small, smooth object was pressed into his right hand, and after a moment of confusion he remembered that he was supposed to swallow it with the water that remained in the cup. Doing so, his arm ached, but at least the sharp pain he remembered from before was gone. "What…did I…?"

"You passed out," Doumeki replied in the most unhelpful way possible. "Due to blood loss."

"How long –"

"Five hours," he interrupted. "You should go back to sleep." The boy stood, and Watanuki noticed with a jolt of dread that Doumeki was covered in blood that was most likely not his own. There was only one possible conclusion, although it was the obvious one and had Watanuki been more alert he probably would have arrived at it much earlier. This didn't mean he had to like it, though.

"You carried me in," he sighed. "I can take care of myself, you know. I've been taking care of myself for years."

Doumeki said nothing, but eyed the wound as if to say, _like you're taking care of yourself now_? It was probably a bad sign, the other boy reflected, if he could tell these things from looking at Doumeki's blurred face in the dark. But that was the direction typical of his life, which seemed to be out to either kill him or make a ridiculous fool of him. Although he would choose the former action before admitting this, Watanuki found he would prefer to be a fool.

Of course, he thought bleakly, if Doumeki stuck around and Kyle went through with his schemes then there was a great likelihood that both fates would be his.

But the painkiller was kicking in, and if he was still in a black mood it was at least a relatively pain-free one, and inclined toward pleasantly fuzzy. Or would have been under better conditions. Watanuki contented himself to lying still in the darkness and hopefully falling asleep soon. After a while, the thought occurred to him that it might be a good if not enjoyable idea to know what was going on, and so he asked, "Did you see what Do – what the doctor did?"

Doumeki shook his head. "I only saw the end," he replied, voice tight. "I don't know what he did." It seemed to the other boy that a whole range of expression was passing across Doumeki's face, expressions that he could not distinguish because his glasses were on the floor near his head and the expressions themselves were far too subtle anyway. It was enough to confirm that whatever the doctor had done, it had left a mess.

Besides himself, of course. But Watanuki was often a mess. This time, he was just a bit messier than usual.

"You should sleep," Doumeki repeated, resting a cold hand on Watanuki's forehead for a moment. Hardly in a position to object (although he desperately wanted to), Watanuki shut his eyes and within minutes had obeyed.

--

The stains would be difficult to explain, but Doumeki had found that he couldn't think of a better alternative at the time. He still couldn't – leaving Watanuki where he fell had been the only other real choice, and witness the boy may be, Doumeki was not about to leave him to die. Especially not while there was information to be gleaned. The fact that he had other investments, possibly of an emotional nature, wasn't official business. Even if it probably was the main reason he'd even been there when Watanuki had fallen.

Doumeki was not the type to indulge in denial of any sort, except in some cases in regards to other people's requests. But never self-denial. So when he'd realised that his interest in Watanuki was not merely professional – that the doctor's servant had become a friend of sorts – he hadn't been happy, but he hadn't bothered to pretend it wasn't true. He knew he would have to deal with the situation, but now more than ever he had no idea whatsoever what he was to do.

He'd nearly given himself away in the air vent – in fact, he had. Kyle had heard him, even if the doctor didn't know what had made the sound. Doumeki could afford no more chances. But to look in and see Watanuki with his chest sliced through and only half stitched shut had not induced great calmness in him. If not for the control he'd learned throughout his training, a small noise probably would not have been the extent of the damage. Or if he'd seen the actual procedure as opposed to the cleaning up thereof.

The problem was that however much Doumeki disliked the fact, there it was: once this was over, Watanuki's life would most likely follow suit. The boy was before all else a witness, and witnesses generally only lasted as long as they were needed. It wouldn't be inconceivable for Doumeki himself to receive orders to "dispose" of him after the fact. So attachment was a really bad idea, to say the least. Friendship was out of the question. These things weren't just the lessons learned throughout training for his chosen career; they were lessons he'd learned secondhand when his fellows would return grieving for friends they'd foolishly allowed themselves to make.

Now the fool was Doumeki, and he supposed it was only fair.

It didn't help that Watanuki was so damn _likeable_. How anyone could have retained of developed such a reactive personality might forever remain a mystery, but somehow he had. And he was a complete idiot. Anyone else would have gone completely insane or tried to escape, but this boy was more concerned with the day-to-day and the fact that his small shack of a home was periodically intruded upon. He clearly resented Doumeki for something – perhaps the frequent invasion of his carefully-organised existence, perhaps the simple fact that Doumeki was free to come and go while _he_ was not – but yet exhibited gratitude at the least likely of times and in the strangest of ways. And in his own way, Watanuki was strong.

Doumeki had been forced to constantly remind himself of that last fact when he'd seen Watanuki in the lab and later, covered in blood as he fell. That and the fact that for now there was _nothing Doumeki could do_, except make sure that his reports about Dr Kyle were as complete as possible.

But that didn't mean he had to accept the situation as it was.

Instead of seeking out his usual hideaway to sleep another few hours – he'd only slept about an hour while Watanuki was unconscious due to unshakable worry – Doumeki headed back to the main building with the idea that he would discover more about the doctor's plan and intentions. He wanted to be as informed as he could possibly be against the very likely eventuality that something like this would happen again.


	10. Tough Choices

See? I updated on time (for once...). Say it with me, folks: "and the plot thickens."

Anyway, reviews as always are very much appreciated. Even if it's negative.

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Watanuki didn't attempt to get out of bed the next morning, deciding he'd risk Dr Kyle's displeasure in favor of not reopening the wound in his chest. Although he'd been prepared not to eat – he certainly wasn't hungry – as darkness fell a slightly baggy-eyed Doumeki descended upon him with intent to feed, and would not leave the invalid alone in peace until he'd gotten his way. But he also brought with him some sort of wound dressing that proved next morning to be miraculously effective. The skin was raw and scabbed, but he could move (albeit stiffly) without bleeding. It was hardly the painful gouge it should have remained, despite Kyle's ministrations. 

Still, Watanuki waited a day longer before returning to his usual routine. For a few more days he experienced a calm spell in which life was almost back to normal, excluding the wound that still hampered him, however less than it should have, and Doumeki who probably would never hamper him less than he already did. Kyle remained out of sight, no sudden visits were made, and Watanuki began to entertain the slightest hope one day that he'd seen the end of the matter.

As fate would have it, the doctor chose the day following this thought to show up in the room Watanuki was attempting to mop in enough time to stop for something to eat or at least drink. "I was wondering when I would find you recovered and back to work," he declared, not yet showing any displeasure that his servant had taken several days of absence without leave. "How are you feeling now?"

There was probably now right answer for that question. "Well, sensei," Watanuki replied warily.

"Excellent," the doctor said. "Tomorrow, then, I would like you to return to the same laboratory. Oh, and Watanuki?"

The boy, who'd returned quickly back to his mopping to avoid meeting Kyle's eyes and displaying his probably-white face, turned reluctantly around. The doctor smiled, though it did not meet his eyes. "This is your last warning," he stated. "Don't lie to me, Watanuki. You've been so good about honest until recently, but I cannot let this sudden development persist. See to it that it does not, and I will not be forced to intervene. I expect you to show up tomorrow with a complete change in attitude." With that, he swept from the room, leaving Watanuki behind with a fresh burst of fear and a puzzle to resolve.

What did Dr Kyle know?

--

Doumeki received a slightly edited version of events later that night, and while he did not call Watanuki on any perceived falsehoods his eyes flicked to where a hefty scar still remained. "Don't go tomorrow," he ordered, as if he had any right at all to tell people what to do. As if just saying that could sum up everything anyone_normal_ would have said into those two words, along with the air of superiority that accompanied everything he said. So even if Watanuki hadn't known better than to risk the consequences of such an action, the order itself would have kept Watanuki from agreeing.

"Do you have any idea what he'll do to me if I just didn't show up?" he demanded, regretting it instantaneously as he realised the opening he'd just provided.

As luck or perhaps fate would have it, Doumeki saw the opening and took it. "I don't," he replied. "You haven't told me yet." As it had whenever this topic had come up before, that not-expression crossed his face and disappeared before identification. It was beginning to worry Watanuki that he could identify it even in the dark. "Is it that much worse than what he'll do to you if you show up tomorrow?"

There was no way to respond to that statement without either admitting he was wrong or giving in to Doumeki's demands, so Watanuki said nothing and glared, hoping his message for once would be adequately conveyed.

No such luck. Hostile silence had never deterred Doumeki before, and that wasn't about to change. "Either don't go tomorrow or explain to me why you think you need to go," he said in his most inscrutable of tones. "I'm not leaving until I get an answer." As if to prove his point, he sat down between Watanuki and the door.

"You'll have to leave eventually," Watanuki said, trying to buy time. It was tempting, of course, very tempting to simply go along with Doumeki's demand and _just not go_. But he was no fool, regardless of the other boy's common comments to the contrary. If he were to give in to the temptation to do so, in the very best case, he would be put through a similar punishment to the one he had barely endured last time. Most likely, it would be worse. And Watanuki didn't want to think about how anything could be worse than what had already been done.

For that matter, he didn't want to think about what Kyle had already done to him. He'd had enough panic attacks to know how they were triggered in him, and also that he never wanted to go through another if he could help it. Granted, they were not as bad as what had originally caused them, but there was always the additional factor of having to tell Doumeki of all people, and allowing him to witness yet another attack.

It also occurred to Watanuki to wonder why Doumeki particularly cared that he allowed himself to be experimented upon by the doctor, but he decided that this was probably yet another entry on the list of things he'd be happier not knowing.

"You'll have to leave eventually as well," Doumeki pointed out, unaware of the other's inner turmoil. "And before me."

"I," corrected Watanuki, feeling ridiculously petty.

Doumeki smirked.

Then Watanuki realized a solution that he should have seen before. "He ruined my eye," he muttered, not because he was ashamed of the fact that he was lying but because he was trying to sound like he wasn't. Or at least nonchalant. Preferably not guilty, although that was unlikely because he wasn't feeling particularly guilty about his actions. It wasn't as if he cared that he was lying to Doumeki. And it was best that he lie, anyway, because he was avoiding both dangers this way. Better to lie than to dare Kyle's wrath. Better to lie than to remember.

"Your eye?" inquired Doumeki, sounding unconvinced – insofar as he ever sounded like anything.

"Yes, my eye!" Watanuki snapped, not having to feign the annoyance. "The blind one! How do you think it got that way? I sure as hell didn't do it!"

"Why your eye?"

Momentarily thrown from his train of thought, Watanuki hesitated. "Eh? Oh…because he needed it for something. Research."

"So he would have done it anyway?" The tone of voice did not change at all. It _could_ have been skepticism. It could have been anything, though.

Watanuki hadn't expected to have to defend his explanation, and was forced to scramble for an answer. "But he…he wouldn't have done it to me in particular!" he retorted, forgetting himself and speaking loudly. Before he could clap his own hands to his mouth in horror, Doumeki had done the honours.

"Quietly!" he whispered in Watanuki's ear. "How did he do it?"

"Do what?" Watanuki demanded (quietly, as requested) around the hand still covering his mouth, slightly distracted by a shivering sensation moving up his spine. Normally that kind of thing was indication of the presence of spirits in the vicinity, but if what the woman had said was true, that couldn't be right. Whatever it was, he wished it would stop soon, because it really wasn't helping him think fast.

"Your eye."

"Ah – acid," he said, thankful he could supply that answer without making it up. "He –"

"Someone's outside," Doumeki cut in. His free hand moved ever so slightly to his side, and if Watanuki hadn't been right next to him he wouldn't have noticed the gesture. But as it was, Watanuki did, and his eye was drawn inexorably to a slight bulge in the other boy's shirt in a vaguely familiar shape. So Doumeki had a gun. The thought was strangely comforting.

He listened closely, and was rewarded by hearing footsteps crackling through the overgrown area about six meters from the shed. Eyes widening, he waited in utter stillness, barely daring to breathe. If whoever was out there had heard them…well, Kyle would know at least, and that was bad enough. Whoever it was might decide to take action on hir own, and that would result in a very bad situation to be in. Either way, Watanuki would be doomed.

But after about five minutes of heart-racing silence, the footsteps moved away and faded. Cautiously Watanuki opened the door and looked out; there was no one to be seen.

"Get back in here," Doumeki commanded quietly. "There could be someone else."

"I'm perfectly fine," Watanuki snapped in the same volume level. But he withdrew his head and closed the door gently behind him, and returned to where he'd been sitting before.

"You were saying before?"

Watanuki had run out of explanation, beyond description of the eye sessions which he didn't really want to give. They hadn't been too bad, really, but that wasn't the issue. Telling Doumeki about how he'd lain for hours on that table, forced to stare up while things were dripped into his right eye, was not really his idea of a comfortable situation.

"He used acid, once a day for about a week," he simplified. "And then after a week I couldn't see any more. That's all."

"That's all?" Doumeki asked, but didn't press when he didn't receive an answer. After a few minutes he spoke again. "If you're intending to go tomorrow, you should be rested."

"I know that," Watanuki retorted. "You're the one keeping me awake."

"Don't mind me, then." Instead of taking the hint and leaving, Doumeki continued to lean against the wall where he was. Refusing to let him win, Watanuki also stayed put, although his eyelids seemed to grow heavier after a while. Still, he wasn't about to fall asleep with Doumeki around. He wouldn't give him that victory. He wouldn't…he wouldn't…

Maybe he would just rest his eyes for a little. But that was it.


	11. A Change in Plans

_Here's where it starts getting, well, epic._

_I'm sorry if i skipped a week, but last week was rather hectic and I honestly cannot remember if I updated or did not. And I realise that this is several days late, but FFN was not working for me.  
_

_Thank you, those who've been reviewing, and please continue to do so! Your appreciation fuels my writing. _

* * *

That morning, Watanuki woke up to the feeling that something had abruptly changed. After taking stock of his position, he began to understand why. He didn't remember lying down in his usual corner or making up the bed, but there it was and here _he_ was. He suspected that these anomalies were all Doumeki's doing, and muttered to himself about intrusions on people's privacy but without too much actual anger. After all, he couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up so warm. 

After a few minutes of this train of thought, he remembered his schedule for the day and forgot all about smaller and less significant events in favour of the nagging fear that had returned full force. Despite his brave intentions, when he really thought about matters he was absolutely terrified of what could happen to him at the doctor's hands. And what if Kyle had learned about Doumeki, assuming he didn't already? What would he do? Beyond that, the chances that Watanuki would even survive the next experiment were not so high. He'd lost far more blood than he had thought possible last time. In fact, he had seen others die of less blood loss. He wondered if Doumeki had noticed the same thing, and decided he would rather not ask.

Assuming he even lived to do so…

Watanuki, having gotten up and dressed and now on his way to the main building, paused at this thought. He'd always known that death was a possibility but it had never hit home like this before – he could_die_. He didn't _want_ to die. But in the end, wanting something had never really brought him closer to achieving it. He didn't _want_ to die – but had that ever stopped anyone?

And as if to make matters worse, a hand was placed on his shoulder at that moment with the doctor himself attached to the other end. "So wisdom won out in the end," Kyle commented. "A word more of wisdom from personal experience, Watanuki…don't rely on anyone but yourself. Especially in the matter of your own life. The least of your troubles will be that you then owe it to them." He smiled condescendingly. "I am impressed, though. You did end up possessing a force of will. I had wondered."

They'd continued walking – or rather, Kyle had continued to steer Watanuki in his desired direction – and had now reached the door to the main building. "I will meet you in the designated laboratory," he told his indentured servant as if the agreement was mutual. "I have a small matter to take care of first. It should not consume too much of my time." He closed the door behind Watanuki, leaving the boy alone in the dimly-lit entrance hall.

Clearly Watanuki was intended to do as the doctor had said, and up until this moment he had been resigned to doing so. The doctor certainly expected it. But something about that comment on his "force of will" had rubbed him altogether in the wrong way, so for a moment he simply stood there, a rebellious urge to run away fighting fiercely with his better judgment. Then his sense of self-preservation kicked in and he kept going, passing into the corridor that would eventually lead him to the lab elevator. There was nothing he could _do_ now. It was too late to change his mind about last night's decision, or so he thought for another five reluctant steps.

Then someone – and Watanuki had a good idea who, or would have if he had thought about it – jumped out at him from somewhere and dragged him into a corner. "Keep quiet," said someone hissed in Doumeki's voice.

"What the hell are you doing?" demanded Watanuki in a whisper.

"Holding you to your word. I told you that either you would disobey Kyle and not be a part of that experiment, or you would tell me why you felt you couldn't." Doumeki turned to the wall and started fiddling with what appeared to be an empty space. "You're a horrible liar, you know," he added as an afterthought.

Watanuki wanted desperately to deny this, but that would mean acknowledging that he _had_ in fact lied about what Kyle had done and he wasn't willing to give up that battle. But there was also no point in pretending that he had not lied, and so once again he found himself at a loss for a suitable response. He wondered if that had been Doumeki's goal, or simply a side effect of a yet undiscovered purpose. It would be like him to plan for something like that.

The area of wall in front of Doumeki suddenly swung open to reveal a large and rectangular passage. "The air vent," the boy explained shortly. "Come on."

"But," Watanuki began to protest, stopping when he realized he still had nothing to follow it up with.

Doumeki responded by pulling him to the front of the air vent. "You'll die," he stated, and his grip on Watanuki's shoulders suddenly grew far too tight. "If you go to that lab today, you're as good as dead." With that, he pushed Watanuki backwards into the vent, climbed in after, and shut the trapdoor behind them. "So you're not going."

_Well,_ Watanuki thought dazedly, _at least I'm not going to die yet. I'm not going to die._ This thought buoyed him as he tried to ignore the tight, dark space._I'm not going to die,_ he told himself as he began to shake, and he thought this as fiercely as he could until he calmed.

"What now?" he demanded aloud.

"I have one more thing to do here," Doumeki replied with the closest thing to disgust Watanuki had ever heard in his voice, and at the same time pushed him father up the vent. "Then we're getting out of here."

Watanuki whipped his head around. "Are you _insane_?" he demanded. "It's impossible! It can't be done! It's even harder getting out than it is to get in, and that when Kyle _isn't_ expecting an escape attempt!"

"I got out," Doumeki interjected.

"With two people?"

"How do you know that escaping is impossible?"

Watanuki scowled. "You think I never tried to escape? There's a reason I know better now, and that is experience!" He caught himself before increasing his volume, and took a barely calming breath. "When they caught me, Kyle went around with me and pointed out various defense mechanisms, explain exactly how each one would stop me from getting out. I know better than _anyone_ how impossible it is to escape alive when they're all activated. There's no way."

"You know them all?" Doumeki inquired, rare interest colouring his voice.

"Do you think Kyle is really that stupid?" the other boy retorted.

"The question is: does he think _you_ are?"

Watanuki digested this. Sense of pride aside, he had to admit that the doctor seemed to have a very low opinion of his intelligence. But even as such, Kyle would never make the mistake of trusting someone who had no reason at all to be loyal to him but fear with all the information about his defense systems. There was no way. Watanuki shook his head.

"It wouldn't make a difference." Turning back, he kept moving upwards, hearing behind him the dulled sounds of Doumeki following behind. _I'm not going to die,_ he told himself once more.

After a long time spent crawling through the vents, Watanuki feeling more and more claustrophobic with each passing second until his mantra was almost insufficient to keep the reaction at bay, a light could be seen from the top of the vent. "There's a safe room there," Doumeki whispered. "Push it open and climb up."

Watanuki did so, and the other boy stuck his head in. "Stay here," he said. "As I said, I have something to do. Then we're getting out of here." He hesitated a moment, as if he had something else to say, but then dropped back down and pulled the ventilation cover down over his head. Watanuki watched the opening for a moment more and then paced over to the other side of the room. The lights flickered from disuse or age or something of the sort. There didn't seem to be an entrance other than the air vent, an observation that was both comforting and ominous to consider.

But the layout seemed familiar in this, almost like…

Watanuki stopped that thought in its tracks, convinced that it could lead nowhere good by the sudden adrenaline rush he experienced. He wasn't sure what it specifically this room reminded him of, but he didn't particularly want to find out. Now was _not_ the time for a breakdown or panic attack.

But thankfully before he could think any more about that subject, a distraction presented itself. "Watanuki," greeted a familiar voice, and the boy in question whirled to come face-to-face to the spirit woman. "Watanuki, what are you doing in here?"

"Waiting for that bastard Doumeki," he muttered. "But wait – didn't you – aren't you –"

"Those that pass on may return," she said. "Most don't see a point in doing so, though. Would you?"

Watanuki considered. "Not really," he decided. "Not to here."

"But I came for a reason," the woman continued. "You can't stay here. The doctor will grow impatient – already he'd pacing and muttering curses at his cameras. You're safe for now in this room, but he'll most likely begin to send his guards after you sooner rather than later. I only saw him recently…" She trailed off, glancing behind her at the wall.

"What?" Watanuki asked.

"Be quiet," she advised. "And run, Watanuki. I heard something…rapid footsteps, perhaps?"

"But –" Watanuki broke off, hearing for himself the muffled sound of footsteps and what sounded like muttering. "How?"

"Here," the woman told him, brushing discorporate fingers against a small catch on one wall. "This will get you out of this room. Be careful, don't give your location away. And don't worry about me, or _him_. He'll get to wherever you are eventually. Now go!"

"I don't care what happens to Doumeki!" Watanuki protested, absolutely not untruthfully at all or in any way. His subconscious could shut it now, thank you very much.

"Go!" the spirit woman urged as the footsteps grew louder. Watanuki went.

--

Doumeki climbed out of the air vent just inside his destination of one of Kyle's laboratories and blinked in the albeit dim light. The room looked to be deserted, but he was not going to take any chances if he could help it. Silently, he pulled from his bag a certain object he'd been given last time he'd contacted another of his associates, and inched forward to the central fixation of this particular laboratory: a large generator. What Kyle needed it for he had know idea, though he dearly would love to know. But it was definitely dangerous, so he took care to refrain from touching it with his bare skin or too roughly. Using a pair of rubber gloves, he eased open one of the maintenance hatches and placed the object he held inside. The door closed with a faint thud, all but drowned out by the much louder sound of the laboratory door slamming shut.

"So my guest kindly presents himself to me at long last," commented a voice that made Doumeki instantly freeze. It had a very pleasant ring to it, but was instantly recognisable as Doctor Kyle's. "I had been wondering when you would. You've been causing me no end of trouble, I hope you realise."

Resisting the 'fight or flight' instinct had always come easily to Doumeki, but right now he wanted nothing more than to bash the doctor's face in. _Irrational,_ he told himself, and instead calmly turned to face the doctor and tensed, ready to vacate the spot he stood in should the need arise.

Kyle did not seem interested in a fight yet, however. "I assume that you are the one who has inspired my servant's recent rebellious streak. A true pity – I had the boy so effectively afraid to step out of line, and now he's blatantly disobeying me and ignoring my orders. I shall need to re-teach him." Then the doctor smiled, and Doumeki had to double his mental efforts to remain stock still. "Even so, I must thank you. I did err on the side of laziness last time I worked on the fool, and if not for your unexpected aid he would certainly have bled to death. And it certainly would have been a crime to lose the only body that has responded positively to the experiment, even in the name of science."

The man was insane.

Doumeki had supposed this, but it was thing to think it and quite another to be presented with the chilling reality of the matter. Kyle was crazy, per se – this cold, calculating insanity was far too well-organised for that. Crazy would have been easier to deal with. But the doctor's mental state was far more dangerous.

_Maybe Watanuki was right_, Doumeki thought, but shook the doubt off. He didn't ever give up on a job. Even when faced with a deranged pseudo-mad-scientist doctor. Especially when said doctor was threatening the life of one Doumeki had resigned himself to being a friend. That itself was reason enough to keep going.

"Your actions do seem to be… rather extreme for one man's single story," continued Kyle. "Even if he does possess a great deal of knowledge about myself and my operations. One cannot help but wonder what other motives you might have, and while I can guess, I suppose I should not go so far as to be certain." He took a step closer; Doumeki brought his own hand to where his gun was lodged. "Excellent reflexes," Kyle said approvingly. "You're almost the perfect man for the job."

"Almost?" Doumeki asked in the slight hope that Kyle would be foolish enough to give away an advantage.

"You've developed an attachment." Kyle smirked. "Now, I would say to tell your employer 'hello' for me, but you'll be in no condition to do that. And even if you do manage to leave, somehow, it will not for quite a while."

Doumeki raised an eyebrow, and the doctor gestured to the wall on his left side. There was a row of security camera screens, and whether by fate or Kyle's doing the boy turned his gaze just in time to see Watanuki sprint through one and then another a split second later._Shit_, he thought, and took a firm step backwards, towards the other door. Then several things happened in rapid progression.

Kyle's arm flashed through the air, and the room was suddenly filled with a deafening bang.

The floor where Doumeki had stood slowly stained red.

A door screamed open and slammed shut.


	12. Turning the Tide

_ Here's the resolution to that cliffhanger I left you on. Sorry I didn't update on Tuesday. This is becoming an unpleasant pattern of forgetfulness._

_Anyway, review, please! I do like to know what my audience is thinking. _

* * *

_Ohshitohshitohshit I _knew_ that this was a bad idea,_ Watanuki thought as he fled his pursuers, ducking into an open archway and skidding around a corner, hoping he could throw them off. Unlike the cartoons he had seen a few times as a child, though, the sounds of pursuit continued to echo behind him. His vision lurched from side to side, and several times he forgot to look where he was going and nearly crashed. _If I get out of this one in one piece, I am _never_ going along with Doumeki's ideas again_, he vowed, conveniently forgetting where he would have been if not for said idea.

His sides were beginning to abandon the realm of pain for the deeper waters of agony when he saw his chance. The hall he'd just skidded into was lined with partially open doors. Choosing one at random, he slipped in through the relatively small opening and leaned against the wall, decidedly ignoring the darkness in favor of listening to the sounds of his pursuers approaching, making a great deal more noise than they had been. It sounded almost as if…

Watanuki lunged for the door but to no avail; it slammed shut with enough force to send him sprawling into the fairly nearby wall on the other side of the room. The last bit of light gone, it was all he could do to inch forward, then clamber to his feet to rest his ear against the door. He could hear nothing. Sighing in relief – if the guards were gone, he wouldn't have to stay in a dark room – he groped for a knob or some form of handle.

Which wasn't there.

He was trapped inside an unused room in the middle of Kyle's vast building. He was trapped in a small, dark room, and there was no one around to hear him.

He was trapped.

He should have known better than to think that Kyle wouldn't win out in the end. It didn't matter how much he tried to escape, to rebel. The long and short of it was that he was inside Kyle's domain, surrounded by Kyle's men and Kyle's cameras, and he had just been pushed exactly where he was meant to go. And now he was sitting in the dark…

In the dark…

And there were walls to his sides that he could feel, and it didn't matter that now wasn't the time at all for panicking because somehow he couldn't help it. He couldn't help it, in the way that he couldn't help that the walls seemed to be closing in on him and he could not see enough to prove he was wrong, and this was just like last time. Any minute now, the voice would return and the _things_.

Get me out get me out get me out 

Watanuki screamed into the door, hoping beyond hope that he was audible from the other side, screamed until his throat ached and his mouth was dry and he had to stop because he felt parched and cracked and nothing had changed. He couldn't see, and yet he could _see_ the room spinning, lurching, hurtling as he had through the halls before. Here he was. And nothing to find him.

Then from one corner of the room, a glow. He froze and watched with pounding heart and desperate hope as it grew in intensity, until he faintly could see the texture of the wall of the far side of the room through the gloom. He crawled forward, disregarding the sudden smell, only focusing on the impossibility that was his discovery…

…and recoiled when the form drifted through the wall, insubstantial and deformed but vaguely human, the sickly remains of the anaesthetised dead.

"No, go away," he moaned as it drifted toward him. It was all he could do to retain the contents of his stomach; up close, the vaguely shaped spirit smelled strongly of rotting and chemicals. But it never halted in its approach until Watanuki threw himself to one side and the thing did not react until it had passed halfway through the wall, turning until it followed the edge. Watanuki backed up to the other side of the room, knowing that there was nothing he could do now but hope the spirit would lose interest. At least it wasn't an angry spirit. His stomach heaved again and he covered his nose and mouth with one arm, suppressing the gag reflex if not his ability to "smell" the thing on the other end of the room.

And then, miraculously, the thing drifted through the next wall it came to and Watanuki was left on his own in his inadvertent prison.

--

Doumeki rested against a wall and let out a pent-up breath. His side burned where the bullet had hit, but fortunately he had evaded the shot enough so that it had at least felt as if it had bounced off a rib. But there was no damage he couldn't work around, so long as he treated the wound now.

It was for just this purpose that he always carried around the medical items he'd helped Watanuki with, and he felt strange patching himself up with them now. When he had finished, he repacked the bandages and salve and continued on his way toward where he had last seen Watanuki. It was doubtful that the boy would be anywhere near there by now, but at least he had a start. And maybe there would be a sign as to where he had gone.

Twice on his way he had to stop and hide as small groups of guards passed him by, obviously intent on their search. This was relieving in that Watanuki had not yet been found, but only just; Doumeki was no closer to discovering the boy's whereabouts than Kyle's guards, and he was at the disadvantage of being one person and lacking ways to watch multiple places at once.

Still, he couldn't give up just yet, and so kept on and refused to allow himself to think twice.

After about an hour of searching and evading capture, though, he began to realise that he needed a new plan because Watanuki was _nowhere to be found_. He had searched the air vents to no avail – although he had doubted the success of this tactic after seeing the boy's reaction to the air vents earlier today.

There was no doubt that Watanuki obviously had some sort of aversion to either the dark or small spaces, possibly both. As far as Doumeki knew, these were simply personality traits. But they would be a hindrance, and they would not help him now.

…Or would they?

Several gears clicked into place as he spotted the familiar glow of a camera screen just inside a room he was passing. If Watanuki wasn't in the air vents, as seemed to be the case, it would be extremely likely that at some point he would pass a camera. Then Doumeki could get his bearings and know where to start looking again – and be able to see if dangers to his own well-being were approaching.

He sidled up to the room, scanning for visible cameras, and slipped in when he saw none and found the room to be empty. As he had suspected, the walls were lined with cameras each marked with a region code, and there on a table was the accompanying map. In several screens, he could see guards rushing or walking by, but never Watanuki. With a sigh that was both relieved and resigned, Doumeki prepared to wait it out.

Time passed exceedingly slowly without a sign of the missing boy. Three times more Doumeki nearly was found out by passing guards, and although he escaped each situation he was growing agitated. Obviously this plan was not the success he had envisioned. But what would be?

For lack of anything better to do, his eyes drifted from the various screens to a folder lying near the map. Narrowing his eyes in interest - here at least was something - Doumeki picked it up and opened it. Inside was a picture of a man with a monocle and an abnormally large chin. A sheet paperclipped behind it was titled 'Project LSD' and featured a great deal of description in terms Doumeki did not quite understand. Nevertheless, he could tell the importance of these things, and instead of replacing them he stowed them carefully in the bag he still carried. Then he reverted his gaze quickly to the screens with an odd feeling that he was being watched.

"Doumeki, is it?" asked a woman's voice. So he had been right about being watched, The agent slowly pulled out his gun and turned, ready to fire. Before him was no guard but a woman who seemed almost to be_glowing_. She held no weapon, and had an expression of almost desperation. "You're the one who has been helping Watanuki?"

"How do you know him?" Doumeki asked, not yet sure if this would be the appropriate time to give away his position with a gunshot.

"I've been trying to help him," the woman told him. "But I can't do anything for him now."

Doumeki's eyes narrowed. Slowly, he lowered the gun ever so slightly. "What happened to him?" he asked calmly, aware of the sudden adrenaline rush but choosing to ignore it. Instinct was a good thing in cases of outright battle, but in situations like this the only way to judge his choices was through unbiased logic. No matter what he wanted to do – which was run off and _find Watanuki_ – he had to hear what came next, in order to best decide.

"He's stuck," the woman whispered. "In a room. And I can't get him out."

"If you can't, how can I?" Doumeki inquired.

"Because you're substantial. I'm… not," the woman replied. "I'm a ghost. I can't touch things." To demonstrate, she reached out a hand and passed it through Doumeki's outstretched gun. He stared.

He hadn't, until this moment, believed in ghosts.

But there was absolutely no other explanation for this than hers, and the woman had no apparent cause to lie about that.

"That makes sense," he said aloud. The woman appeared relieved that her explanation was acceptable.

"I'll show you where he is, but I don't know if you'll be able to get in directly. You might need a key…"

"Or an air vent."

"That would work," the woman said.

They exited the room, the ghost woman gliding along ahead. Doumeki at first tried to stay at a walk, but eventually gave in and began to run. Soon, but not soon enough, they reached a hallway lined with doors and the woman stopped.

"He's in there," she said, pointing at a door on the left. Doumeki tried the door and found it, as predicted, locked. "There's an air vent in that last hallway, and I don't think anyone's coming."

"One question," Doumeki said as he turned toward the indicated place. "I don't generally see ghosts. Why can I see you?"

The woman smiled a bit sadly. "It's a sacrifice," she told him. "It wasn't easy, but I had to help him somehow." The agent nodded and once more set off for the nearest air vent. Behind him, the woman added, "Please, if you meet my brother…"

Doumeki nodded, and then was out of the hall and in another. There as promised was the vent entrance. No one seemed to be coming, and so he quickly opened it, climbed in, and shut the entrance quickly behind him, wincing at the barely audible clang. Then he was in.

The climb through was agonizingly slow, as he crawled through at what seemed to be a snail's pace. The distance of a hall felt more like kilometers. The vents here were full of dust, and he suspected that the area had not been cleaned for quite some time.

But finally he went through the appropriate number of rooms and found the ventilation cover that had to be correct. As quickly as he could, fingers slipping in his hurry, he pulled the cover off and climbed in, making sure it did not close behind him.

"Watanuki?" he called. At first no answer came, and he worried he'd chosen the wrong room or had lost count. But then he stepped forward and behind him someone made a noise of abject fear. "Watanuki?"

Watanuki – it was definitely Watanuki – jumped back or started, making a loud thump as he collided with something, perhaps a wall. "Get away," he whispered in what definitely sounded like abject fear, if not outright terror. This could not say good things about what had happened here before Doumeki arrived.

"It's me," he said. "Doumeki." He hesitantly reached forward to touch what he hoped was Watanuki's arm. At contact the appendage instantly drew back and Watanuki's breath drew in sharply.

"_Get away._" There was no mistaking the note of panic rising in his voice, and Doumeki felt an odd sense of déjà vu. "No, don't touch me –"

He realised what was going on, and clenched his teeth against his own reaction, which seemed to border between dismay and increased concern. Panic attack. Of course now would be when Watanuki would suffer the incident that had been waiting to happen for as long as Doumeki knew. If the situation had not been so dire, he would have made speculations as to the true nature of the cause of these attacks, but now Watanuki had to be calmed down and quickly.

Unfortunately, Doumeki only knew the methods to stop a panic attack that were carried out during interrogations and other similar situations in which the victim's health and emotional stability was barely necessary. These methods were rather brutal and involved direct confrontation and often also physical pain, which he would _not_ use. This left the slightly cruel but better approach of simply surprising him out of it.

Steeling himself, Doumeki gripped both of Watanuki's arms and held them still while the boy started and attempted to back. "Snap out of it," he said steadily, attempting to be at least calm in his approach if not kind. "Nothing is in here."

After what seemed like an age, Watanuki slumped forward. "Can you hear them?" he asked dully. "The screaming. They're screaming."

"No one's screaming," Doumeki replied, listening intently anyway in case he was missing something. But other than their whispered conversation, there was nothing but silence.

Suddenly Watanuki's form tensed again, fingers curling around Doumeki's forearms. "Oh god, _make them stop_!" he hissed in obvious torment. "_Please_." A strangled pause. "Please." The last word was no more than a broken whisper, and something in Doumeki clenched and refused to let this slide.

"There's no one here," he said fiercely. "No one but you and –"

"_No one_," Watanuki echoed. "There's no one…"

"No one but you _and me_," Doumeki corrected.

"No," said Watanuki.

Silence.

This was doing nothing. If Watanuki was hallucinating – or there was more to this place than the ghost woman – he was in no shape to escape. And they had to escape as soon as was humanly possible. "Oi," he said, shaking the other boy ever so gently. "Watanuki." For a moment, there seemed to be no reaction.

But then slowly, ominously, from the other side of the room came the unmistakable sound of a door being unlocked.


	13. The Last Stretch

_Happy Christmas, if that's what you celebrate. Let's pretend that it's two hours and ten minutes earlier than it actually is..._

* * *

Watanuki was dimly aware of someone or something holding onto him that _hadn't_ eaten him, and despite his surroundings was beginning to calm down. The rational part of his brain felt rather bogged down and murky, but its message was becoming clearer: _you're safe here. Get a grip, Watanuki Kimihiro._

What really brought him back, however, was the sound from the door. _I've been found_, he realised. He wasn't stuck here. He had made it.

"Come_on_," hissed a voice from whoever was holding onto him, a voice Watanuki suddenly recognised as Doumeki's. "It's Kyle out there."

"How'd you get in here?" Watanuki demanded, feeling bewildered by mixed signals. He had to get out of this room. But he couldn't let Kyle catch him, because he would only end up going back. His head felt fuzzy, as if something was blocking clear thinking or he'd just woken up from a deep sleep.

"I'll explain later," said Doumeki, pulling Watanuki to an upright position. Legs tingling painfully into life, the latter nearly fell back down, only to be hoisted up and through a hole in the ceiling._The air vents. Of course,_ Watanuki thought sheepishly.

Doumeki climbed in behind him and closed the ventilation grill just the door to the room opened and everything was flooded with light. Watanuki bit back a cry as his eyes went temporarily blind. When his vision returned, through the grill he could see several guards and the doctor himself.

"Not in here, either," Kyle snapped. "If you've lost him…"

The men trooped out, slamming the door behind them. Watanuki expelled a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, and slumped against the cold metal. "What now?" he asked shakily.

"We get out of here," Doumeki replied. "And then you explain things."

--

Watanuki found that later he did not remember much of the escape from the building itself. He drifted in and out of coherency and for the most part simply followed where Doumeki led, not trying to pay attention to his surroundings. Nonetheless, they made it out without further incident, which struck Watanuki as not at all in keeping with how things had been going for him lately. He was certain that any moment now, Kyle would descend upon them and send them both to some awful fate.

But Kyle did no such thing, and soon they were running across the garden. The sun was nearly set, but Watanuki found he couldn't tell how much time had gone by inside that room. Had it been one afternoon, or one day?

He didn't really want to know.

The crisp evening air cleared his head somewhat, so that by the time they had shelter – the old shed, to Watanuki's dismay – he was feeling coherent enough to manifest his confusion and apprehension in annoyance with Doumeki. "That was stupid," he said as they sat down, breathing heavily. "We could have been seen at any time. I can't believe we made it out. The technology that man has got – the only way for us to have escaped would be that he _let_ us! And you just tore across the open –"

"Oi," cut in Doumeki, rudely as ever.

"My name is –"

"Watanuki," he continued. "What happened in that room?"

Watanuki reddened with embarrassment and refused to look up from a highly interesting point on the ground. "N-nothing. It was just… it was nothing. Shouldn't we be focusing on how to get out of here."

"No," said Doumeki forcefully, and Watanuki did look up then in surprise. "I want some answers, and this time I want the truth."

"I did –"

"The_truth_, Watanuki," he repeated. "The eye was obviously traumatic, but you weren't concerned about your eye in either panic attack."

Watanuki looked down at the ground again. "I'm afraid of the dark," he mumbled. "And of small places. And the – the things in them."

"Things like ghosts?"

Eyes widened, Watanuki whipped his head up to stare at Doumeki in disbelief. "You see them too?" he demanded. "The spirits?" In all the time he could remember, Watanuki had never known anyone else who could see the spirits that plagued him so, and only one person had ever believed him. The possibility that there could be someone else – even if that someone was an annoying jerk like Doumeki – was astounding.

But Doumeki shook his head to Watanuki's plummeting hopes. "Not typically," he said, and there was something almost like confusion in his voice. That couldn't be right. Doumeki was far too smug to be confused about anything. "But you do."

"I – well, yes, but –"

"You asked 'you see them too', which means you see them," Doumeki explained. "And you said you were afraid of 'the things in the dark and closed places'. Like ghosts."

"Spirits," Watanuki corrected.

"What's the difference?"

"I don't just see ghosts," he clarified. "Normally, anyway. There are only ghosts here."

"From the way you reacted, I don't think they're 'only' ghosts," Doumeki commented. He shifted and winced, ever so slightly, but Watanuki was looking for an escape and caught the expression as it winked out of existence.

"Did you get hurt while we were in there?" he demanded. Doumeki shrugged. Watanuki found that this infuriated him beyond what he would expect, but he did _not_ like the feeling of someone having been injured for his sake, and Doumeki was no exception. Even if the guy was a bastard, he had no right to get himself hurt. "What happened?"

"Kyle shot at me while I was finishing my business," Doumeki replied nonchalantly. "I bandaged it before coming for you."

"He_what_?" Watanuki stared in disbelief. "You bandaged it in there? And you've been interrogating me instead of fixing it up properly here?"

"I didn't see a problem with it the first time," the agent said.

"_I'll_ be the judge of that," grumbled Watanuki. High on the long list of Doumeki's incompetencies was the ability to do anything tidily, Watanuki felt, and thus bandaging himself would be far beyond his capacity.

As it turned out, Doumeki _had _done a very lackluster job at tending to his wound, which was not nearly as minor as the agent would have Watanuki believe. Grumbling all the while, Watanuki proceeded to completely unwrap it and clean it properly. The bits of who-knows-what clinging to Doumeki's side could not have been healthy.

"Seriously, how did you get that underneath your clothes?" Watanuki demanded more than once. "On the other hand, I don't want to know."

Doumeki on his part didn't do much to interfere, which was rather suspicious. This was explained, however, when Watanuki finally finished and sat back, still glaring, and Doumeki sat up. "So," he said. "Now that you're done, you're going to explain."

"I_did_!" protested Watanuki.

"You explained the second panic attack," Doumeki replied. "But not the first one. When I was asking you about what Kyle did to you."

"He played off my fears!" Watanuki snapped. "And I don't want to talk about it, because if you hadn't noticed I just had a panic attack, and I _don't _like having them at all. Can we go now?"

Doumeki stood up and looked out the window at the gold sky. "We'll go," he decided. "I'll hear all of it eventually, but for now we'll go."

"Don't assume things," grumbled Watanuki. Nevertheless he was relieved as they crept out into the dusk. They climbed the tree that Doumeki had watched from once, and over the wall into the second ring of gardens. Here Watanuki was in unfamiliar grounds. He had never seen over the wall, and was substantially surprised at the setup here. It was neat and orderly, with nary a leaf out of place – a stark contrast to the mess around the shed. Perhaps that was simply a statement of Watanuki's importance, or maybe Kyle only wanted to impress and did not need to landscape the innermost gardens in order to do so.

The consequence of this was that there were far fewer hiding places to be found. Luckily, although very oddly, there did not seem to be very many guards around at this time. Were they all still looking for Watanuki? Or were they waiting someplace else?

But they maneuvered around the second wall as easily as the first. This time they passed underneath through a small tunnel concealed by a shrub, as the wall itself was covered in barbed wire and, according to the doctor, booby-trapped. The outermost garden was much like the second, although rather more ornate and with sloping, shadowed lawns. On the outermost wall, periodically spaced guard towers could be seen. Doumeki halted them just inside as they crawled out of the tunnel. "This should be a good distance," he said.

"For what?" Watanuki asked.

As if to answer, Doumeki pulled out a small silver object and pressed it between his thumb and forefinger. Watanuki instinctively tensed himself. A few seconds passed. Nothing happened.

"It's out of range," muttered Doumeki.

"Meaning?" inquired Watanuki.

"I have to go back. Stay here."

"I – what? On my own?" Watanuki clapped a hand over his mouth, voice once again rising. Doumeki nodded tersely.

"Stay in the tunnel if you feel unsafe, but don't come any closer," he instructed, and then he backed into the tunnel and out of sight.

_Who does he think he is, anyway?_ thought Watanuki irritably. _Just telling me to stay here?_ He climbed into the tunnel after, and raised his head on the other side to watch Doumeki sprint across the lawn and out of sight.

_Bastard_, thought Watanuki.

--

_It's not working_, Doumeki thought with no little trepidation. He could do nothing but get closer to the source, but as things were he was already far too close for safety. But this was his job, not to mention Watanuki's bid for freedom, and that was far more important. He could always find a place to shelter, if it came to that.

After carefully scanning the area, he judged the coast to be clear and made a dash for the nearest entrance to Kyle's mansion. The button still wasn't working at this distance. Doumeki wondered offhandedly if this was some sort of malfunction – the signal should have been clear from a much safer distance. He could worry about that later, though.

Hopefully.

It was too quiet as he slipped inside – too quiet and too dark. Even this morning this hall had been at least slightly lit. Something was up, but Doumeki couldn't well turn back now, considering that the signal was still not strong enough. He just had to hope that Kyle's trap was not about to snap shut on him.

"Back again, are we?" inquired the doctor's voice from somewhere ahead of him.

_Oh, fuck._

Doumeki put his free hand on the gun at his side and tried not to think too regretfully of bulletproof vests. That was another thing he hadn't managed to obtain for this endeavor.

"You don't sound like Watanuki. He's much louder when he walks," continued the doctor. "So, it must be his protector." The lights flooded on and Doumeki instinctively dodged as Kyle raised a hand. "No need to be so skittish, Doumeki."

He was quick, but Doumeki was on his toes; as the other hand flashed up and the gun was fired, the agent ran the other way and past Kyle, pulling out his own gun and turning the first corner he came to. He could hear Kyle running behind him. _How did he know my name?_ Doumeki wondered as he returned to his originally planned course, the doctor close behind.

The air vents were out of the question for what he was about to do, if he intended to survive this, but he wished he had taken them after all. Several bullets slammed into the wall just behind him as he picked up speed, and Kyle laughed.

"I'm afraid your time is running short," the doctor called. "You're going the wrong way to escape." Doumeki said nothing, turning another corner and shoving past two surprised guards. "And you've failed in setting your precious Watanuki free as well. I would have known if anyone crossed the final gardens, and I've received no warnings of that. In fact, he appears to be coming towards us."

Doumeki did not stop or slow, but he cursed Watanuki's idiocy as he ran. He saw no reason not to believe Kyle – it was far too much in character with the doctor to have a way of knowing where Watanuki was. He wondered if the room Watanuki had been trapped inside was sealed with lead.

He pulled out the device and noted to his satisfaction that it had begun to glow a soft blue. All he had to do now was stay in range and find a hiding place.

Another shot behind him sent him swerving to the left to avoid the bullet, and Kyle behind him laughed. "Make this easy on yourself. You can't run forever." No further shots came, but Doumeki did not chance a look behind him. "Do you know what I intend to do with Watanuki?" the doctor inquired. "I expect not. I'm going to one-up an old colleague of mine and create something even he cannot. I'm going to be the next Clow Reed."

The name seemed familiar, but Doumeki was concentrating on his location and didn't think too much into it. "How does Watanuki connect to that, you ask? I expect you've never heard of Project LSD, then. Not many have. And so far, your _fool_ish friend is the only one to respond positively to what of the Project I've attempted upon him. I've found the perfect subject, and I don't intend to lose it lightly."

_Him, not it_, Doumeki thought with a touch more vehemence than he was entirely comfortable, but this was chased out of his mind as he turned a corner and ducked into what appeared to be a laboratory. There in one corner was exactly what he needed.

As he crossed the final distance, sides beginning to burn, he pressed the device between thumb and forefinger and watched the light turn red. Seven seconds later, he was ensconced in his shelter.

_Three…two…one…_

--

Watanuki watched the place where Doumeki had disappeared from view, not wanting to follow but not willing to leave his self-assigned post. Whatever the agent was doing, it was obviously important, but Watanuki just wanted to get the hell out of this place before Kyle caught them. Each noise he heard was surely the doctor or his men coming up behind him, and as time passed and nothing happened he grew more and more agitated.

Finally he couldn't bear it and hopped down from the wall to pace. It was at that point that a tremendous _boom_ sounded beyond the wall and Watanuki and the wall itself were blown backwards. The air was full of shrapnel, but Watanuki didn't notice much because he collided with the ground at this point and saw stars. Several pieces of wall landed next to him, and he scrambled to his feet and fled for the safety Doumeki had promised beyond the second wall. Two more explosions occurred in rapid succession, flinging debris in every direction and once more Watanuki himself was brought to the ground.

Picking himself up again, he ran ever faster and through a hole in the second wall. Something underneath the gardens was exploding as well, and everything shook as if due to an earthquake.

_Doumeki was in there!_ realised Watanuki in horror as the whole property blew to pieces behind him, and for a second he halted. But no, there was no time for thinking; he had to get out of here. The last wall loomed before him, one final obstacle. He was nearly there.

Then the ground tore apart beneath his feet, and the last thing he saw before his sight exploded into darkness was the wall hurtling ever closer.

* * *

_And thus ends Part I. There's quite a bit more to come, though!_

_Review? _


	14. Intermission I

_This is something like an epilogue to Part I and a prologue to Part II, so I'm calling it an intermission. You'll maybe appreciate the ending? Unless you liked the cliffhangers. _

* * *

Not much time seemed to have passed when Watanuki woke up again, head pounding awfully. Now would be a wonderful time for Doumeki's painkillers, he thought dully, and then he remembered the explosion and felt his heart jump into his throat. Hesitantly he pulled himself to his feet and surveyed the damage, hoping against hope that it wasn't as bad as it had seemed. 

The exploding had ceased while he had been out cold, and now a cloud of smoke and steam and dust rose above the place where Kyle's mansion once had stood. Now all the stood on the ground was rubble, a few uprooted trees, and the remnants of what had once been very solid walls. Everything was absolutely silent.

There was no sign of anyone, including Doumeki.

Watanuki took an unsteady step forward, skin feeling taut and raw and legs screaming in distress. He didn't want to stop and take stock of injuries, didn't want to see how badly he was burnt from the explosion that had occurred underneath him. Before anything, he had to find Doumeki. For some reason it was vital to his bewildered mind that this be done before he could contemplate the larger meaning of this sudden change. Freedom, he found, was far too frightening a concept to think about.

He would find Doumeki first, and worry about the rest of his life once that question was answered. If he hadn't died by now, he was probably going to hold out a little longer.

Somewhere the sun was probably setting, but at Watanuki picked his way through the ruin of Kyle's dominion the smoky air was not much lighter than it would have been halfway through the night. A dull red light was cast by the smoldering fires that had lay claim to all flammable material, which wasn't very much but still enough for Watanuki to find safe places to step. What was left of the mansion was ablaze, but died quickly. The rain that presently began to fall hastened matters, but not enough to rid the scene of what light there was.

As he began to search the remains of the mansion, he made an unpleasant discovery – the test subjects, held captive deep underground, hadn't stood a chance in the explosion. Their mangled bodies strewed the immediate area of the mansion's wreckage, and the smell of charred flesh filled the air. Watanuki was glad he hadn't eaten since sometime either earlier that day or the day before, for his stomach heaved and anything he had eaten surely would not have remained down.

_What did this?_ he wondered again and again and he scoured the wreckage for a sign of anyone familiar. He desperate did _not _want to see Doumeki there – however much of a bastard he was, _no one_ deserved to die that way – and yet he could not help but need to know. But all he saw were the torn bodies of test subjects or guards, and rarely could he distinguish the faces enough to be able to say for certain that they weren't someone he knew.

And yet he continued to search, ignoring the pain in his legs, focused in the hip he'd injured before, and the innumerable burns he'd sustained. He resolved that he would _not_ stop until he'd found some sort of explanation for the night's events, even if it was simply the equally mangled body of Doumeki. The thought was frightening. He wasn't sure why, outside of the fact that he didn't want to guy who'd saved him to have died. But that shouldn't have been frightening.

Or maybe it should have. Watanuki had forgotten what few people skills he had ever possessed in his time with Kyle.

The night wore on as he continued to search in vain, growing more fatigued with every step. Eventually he simply sat, unsure of what he was doing and where he could go, waiting for something to happen. It would be a very anticlimactic end to simply die here in the wreckage because he hadn't done anything, but Watanuki felt as if the last bit of energy he possessed was gone.

No – I've got to keep going… 

He had expected spirits but had seen none. Were they all gone now that the house was fallen? Was there no one here but him and the bodies?

He got up and kept searching. He had to do something.

Got to…keep going… 

--

Doumeki had waited for a long time after the explosions ceased before crawling out of his shelter. The smoky destruction zone that awaited him was no surprise, though he hadn't been quite sure how it would actually look.

He made his way out of the laboratory's wreckage as quickly as possible and found a relatively clear spot under a large chunk of metal to sit for a moment. But when he opened his eyes, the fires had burned down significantly and he was wet as if it had been raining. So much for just a short rest.

Now to find Watanuki and go home.

As it turned out, he nearly stepped on Watanuki as he stepped around a piece of wall. The boy had fallen against it, and for a heart-stopping moment Doumeki feared the worst. But no, he was breathing. He must have passed out, though what he was doing in the mansion wreckage Doumeki didn't know. His clothes were scorched and torn beyond recognition, and he hadn't fared much better; what skin Doumeki could see was burned and blistered, and bloody in places. Obviously despite the warnings, he hadn't stayed out of the zone of destruction. Or else the explosion had been far greater than Doumeki had anticipated. The agent supposed that given everything else that had gone wrong, this was entirely possible.

He didn't particularly want to wake Watanuki, and so instead picked him up and carried him in both arms from the ruins of the doctor's mansion, to the rest of the world. This was success, Doumeki knew, and yet all he felt was intense relief.

But he didn't mind. At least he had that much.

* * *

_It's worth mentioning now that thus far, this story's been gen. You who have read my previous work know what I tend to write, but I'll spell it out for those who don't: I like the Watanuki/Doumeki pairing. No, this will not become a romance story. Not a chance. But there will definitely be subtext, and there may be be outright instances of slash. I'll warn for it, though. I hope this will not deter any readers, but if you feel that strongly against the pairing, it's your choice whether or not to read further. Maybe it can open your mind to the tolerance, at least. If not, this would be a good time to duck out._

_Anyway, please do review. Hopefully I'll see you next chapter. _


	15. Chance Encounter

_All right. I'm sorry. I've had this chapter; the thing that kept me from posting it is senility, nothing more. _ _If this continues, please feel free to yell at me to update. I need to get on this._

_Er. Part Two begins. Enjoy, and I'm very sorry for the extreme lateness. _

* * *

It was dark on a ridge of hills overlooking a small valley, but the man waiting there still watched from above. He scarcely moved, though this may not have been due to a need to be silent. His good eye never wavered from the view below, although there was nothing to be scene but smoke and grass, a few trees, and a dull glow from a ways off.

He watched the glow. He didn't move. He didn't make a sound.

Catching light in its reflective surface, a small shard of glass (or so it appeared or would have to anyone who saw) was clenched in the man's hand. On it was roughly etched a symbol, reminiscent of a bat of some kind.

The man smiled. Things were not all lost. He would have his revenge before long.

--

Watanuki paused to rest his aching leg, unwilling to ask his traveling companion to stop or slow down. If after surviving the explosion Doumeki was still walking comfortable, or at least without showing discomfort, then the other had no reason to complain. He'd even had treatment for his burns and scrapes.

Specifically, he'd woken up in a panic to find most of his torso crudely bandaged and Doumeki rubbing something cold into the burns on his right arm. For a moment Watanuki had tried to connect the place he'd fallen asleep (or perhaps merely unconscious) and the conditions to which he'd woken up, but eventually had given up in the face of incoherent thoughts. "What happened to my shirt," he had asked with a pathetic cough, the memory of which still made him cringe. Doumeki had held up a ripped and burnt shred of fabric. No further comment had seemed at all necessary at this point, and Watanuki had given up trying to do so until he woke up properly.

Now, of course, things made uncomfortable sense, and he had a pretty good idea of what had happened. He was glad that he'd been unconscious; the mortification of knowing he'd been carried out (carried _again_) was not nearly as absolute as it would have been, had Watanuki been awake to experience the event. It had been bad enough the first time.

At some point, Watanuki decided, he would have to ask how it was that Doumeki had survived, but he was still caught between relief and embarrassment – not to mention slight confusion over his own motivations. But that was a topic for another day's contemplation, hopefully a day in which he could rest and _not_ have to traverse large expanses of uninhabited land. For now he was more concerned with making it from Point A to Point B, wherever that might be.

Today was the second day of walking, and no one was pleased by the situation. But Doumeki had not been provided transportation back to wherever he'd come from, and for whatever reason didn't want to take the chance of either of them being recognized. When a cross Watanuki had demanded to know why the people for whom Doumeki worked hadn't considered the return journey, the latter had simply shrugged and said that there was no point in providing a ride home for someone who was likely to be dead. Watanuki hadn't asked again.

Distracted, he didn't realize his peril until a gust of wind sent one of the tufts of grass that choked their path to smack him in the face. He looked up, biting back a string of curses and generally feeling great resentment toward all grasses. Doumeki was far ahead. No longer bothering to contain his irritated mutterings, Watanuki began walking with as much speed as he could manage given his various injuries. "Slow down a moment!" he called desperately, though he knew he was downwind and probably could not be heard.

Fortunately, Doumeki either heard or noticed that something was up, for he turned around and observed the distance between them. He paused then and waited until Watanuki limped into place next to him.

"You're more injured than you said you were," the agent remarked.

"Nothing we can do about it," Watanuki retorted. "I'll live."

"But you can't walk," Doumeki pointed out with insufferable logic. When he was met with only sullen and indecipherable mutterings ("I've been walking just fine all this time, you self-righteous limp of uselessness!") the agent sighed all but inaudibly and slung Watanuki's left arm over his shoulders. To explain himself to the bemused and irate object of his torment (or so said object believed himself to be), he took a step. To Watanuki's great remorse, walking did become easier after this. He didn't acknowledge this discovery with anything beyond acquiescence, though this he knew was sufficient to say exactly what he refused to.

Doumeki had absolutely no right to be right about so many things. Absolutely none.

They walked well into the afternoon with limited interaction beyond aid in self-transportation, and as the sun began to tend more toward the western horizon than its zenith, they reached a causeway. There they halted, watching the cars in (at least in Watanuki's case) weary fascination as they waited for a sufficient gap in traffic to cross over to the other side. For a long time no such gaps appeared, and then to the alarm of both pedestrians a car slowed down and reversed into the shoulder. Doumeki's hand was to the concealed gun before Watanuki could finish gasping.

The driver's window rolled down to reveal a man with a kind face and one milky eye – the way Watanuki supposed his own eye must appear. The man looked surprised to see them, and confirmed this with the first words out of his mouth. "Shizuka?" he asked. "What are _you_ doing here?" It didn't seem to be the kind of question inspired by a fortuitous meeting.

Doumeki, however, seemed pleased by the turn of events. "Subaru. The mission was a success."

"Oh – oh, good!" replied Subaru, and the expression of discomfort seemed to disappear. "We were afraid that you had failed when the communication device lost service. I'm – heading back, so if you'd like a ride…" His glance slid over to Watanuki, "Shizuka, who's this?"

"The only other survivor of Dr Kyle Reed's estate," Doumeki replied. Watanuki shot him a glance – it was truth, but very little of it, and surely if this Subaru was a colleague then he could be trusted. Or was this some sort of political move that Watanuki wasn't aware of a need for? He'd been so bewildered by his sudden freedom to think much of his destination, but he realised now that he knew next to nothing about Doumeki or his employers.

Subaru nodded with an expression that promised later words, and opened the side door of his car. "Have a seat, then, he invited, smiling in a worried fashion as if unsure that he was doing the right thing. "It's a pleasure to meet you…"

"Watanuki," the ex-servant replied. He imagined for a moment that a flicker of recognition crossed the older man's face, but it was gone before he could be sure. He didn't know any other Watanukis, but it stood to reason that they existed. Nodding, he climbed into the car, Doumeki following behind with an odd hesitation in his movements.

It was a sleek vehicle, with black leather seats and emblazoned with the insignia of what Watanuki assumed was the company or what-have-you that Doumeki and Subaru both worked for. As the car accelerated it made next to no sound, trademark of the dual-source engine that required no combustion. Watanuki felt distinctly uncomfortable in his surroundings; he wasn't at all used to luxury and kept expecting Subaru or someone hidden to jump back at him, bizarre as it was. He decided at this point that he was getting too paranoid to be able to trust his instincts.

No one really said much during that journey. Watanuki might once have tried to fill the silence, but now he felt out of place and without cover, overexposed. He spent most of the ride fidgeting and stealing glances out the window, feeling almost afraid of the view rushing by. Riding a car was something he had never done before, and after an hour or so he decided that he didn't like it much at all.

His hip ached dully, and his healing burns itched. A few had been severe enough that they had not begun to sufficiently heal, and they felt tight and overheated, warming the leather more quickly than other areas of his body. At least the salve had done its job again. The pain could have been much worse. Nonchalantly, Watanuki tried to reposition his sore hip, but caught Doumeki's eyes and flash of something – worry? – in his face.

"I'm fine," Watanuki mumbled.

"Hm," replied Doumeki, skepticism barely showing but still apparent. He did not ask any further questions, however.

After another hour or so it had begun to rain, and Watanuki gave up on his glaring and leaned guiltily against the window, staring dully at the washed-out world beyond. Doumeki beside him was by all appearances asleep, slumped where he sat, brow slightly creased. _Pain?_ Watanuki wondered. _I hope he didn't use the rest of the first aid kit on me…_

He yawned. Sleep was beginning to seem like an excellent idea. Well, no one could be wrong _all_ of the time…

The next thing he knew, it was dark and somebody was shaking him. "We're here," said Doumeki's voice. Watanuki searched halfheartedly for an irritable response, and when he failed, nodded. He could return to normality – whatever that was – tomorrow. For now he would settle for a place to sleep.

He opened the car door and stepped out. As he set his left foot down, it buckled, and with a lance of pain that shot through the pertinent hip Watanuki fell. He glared at Doumeki and Subaru, both of whom had stated forward as if to help, pulled himself to his feet, and this time remained standing.

"Fine?" inquired Doumeki pointedly.

"Stiff," Watanuki retorted haughtily, and limped after Subaru who had begun to walk away in the direction of what looked to be a door and hopefully led to somewhere containing a bed. Other essentials could be postponed. He felt as if he had not slept in days, as if his car-ride nap had served only to whet his appetite for sleep. Or maybe it was that he'd been ignoring exhaustion until now. Whatever the reason, all he wanted now was sleep.

It _was _a door, and it led to a long hall. About halfway through, Subaru opened a door to what proved to be an elevator, and took them up three floors. On this level he left them, saying something to the effect of that he would be back with an extra pallet, and then Doumeki somehow opened the lock to one of the doors lining this floor and guided Watanuki inside. This room was mostly empty, containing a futon on the floor, a dresser with a neat pile of clothing on top, and a room that presumably led to a bathroom. The only personal object in the room seemed to be the bow, resting in one corner and looking rather neglected.

"Take the futon," Doumeki said, having one of his depressingly common perceptive moments. "I can wait for Subaru to come back."

"That's bad manners," Watanuki mumbled, but despite his principles of never accepting more than he had to, he was tired and it was probably late and Doumeki at least was the safe kind of annoyance. And the futon looked _comfortable_, a better bed than Watanuki could remember since the last steady home he'd lived in. It seemed a disconnected memory after years of cold floors and sheds, sore backs and necks.

"You can be polite when you're awake," Doumeki replied, and his tone brooked no argument. Watanuki, to his future disgust, was all too willing to comply. He collapsed on the futon, clothes and all, and instantly fell asleep again.


	16. Seeing Clearly

_eheh, late again. So anyway, the plot thickens. Enjoy._

* * *

The first thing Watanuki notices upon waking up was the window across the room. Outside, rain lashed the glass, but the sound was muffled. Despite the weather, the light that shone through was bright in his still-sleepy eyes. It was a much more agreeable sight to wake up to than what he was accustomed to, even if he did see spots for a moment.

The second noticeable thing was the bedding he was sleeping on. It had been comfortable last night as well, but he'd been tired and hadn't really noticed. Now, however, he could fully appreciate the luxury of_real_ sheets and blanket, something he had not experienced for years. The only other memory he had of such things was old and foggy, full of faces that blurred and words that seemed muffled in the eye and ear of his mind. It had been too long, he decided. But it was a fond memory, and one more suited to the situation than others could have been. It was all right to remember the past if the present was also, at least for the time being, a comfortable one.

Of course, the third thing was his injuries deciding to all start hurting like hell at once, effectively negating any and all pleasant sensations and seeming much more like life as he knew it. With a sigh, Watanuki attempted to unwrap himself and stand, an effort that seemed for a time to be in vain. His hip had stiffened significantly overnight, and while it was content to stay still with not as much complaint as yesterday, it was strongly averse to being moved and retaliated with sharp pains and dull throbbing aches alike when he tried to do so. He was beginning to consider losing all remnants of his dignity and asking for assistance, assuming there was anyone around, when he was abruptly but gently pulled into a sitting position. Doumeki's impassive face loomed in the near vicinity, blurry and even more difficult to read than usual without the aid of glasses. _And it had looked like it was going to be a good day_, Watanuki mourned. But at least he hadn't had to ask.

"How are you?" Doumeki inquired, nodding toward visible bandaging to indicate that he did not mean it as a greeting only. _Some people_, Watanuki mused sourly, _would preface that with a 'good morning'. _Although, truth be told, of all people who could have appeared in the room, Doumeki was probably the most comfortable choice. What this said about everyone else could not be good.

"I'm fine," Watanuki said, mostly by habit. He was definitely _not,_and he doubted this needed to be said to be apparent. Doumeki didn't often take the answers he received to such questions literally, and there was no reason for him to start now. He had this annoying habit of seeing the truth, or the context of the truth, at least, despite what was actually said out loud.

"Both of us are seeing a doctor," the agent said, proving Watanuki's suspicions once again correct. This was not such an annoyance, mainly because the latter was on his feet and halfway to panic before it registered that all doctors were not Kyle, who was probably dead anyway. Embarrassed, he looked down, trying not to wince as every injury protested the rapid movement.

At this point he realised that he had not bathed for days, and he was still covered in grime, dust, sweat, and probably blood, not to mention soot from the explosion. Disgusting, he thought. "I need a shower," he mumbled, happy also for a legitimate escape from an embarrassing situation. "Or some form of bathing."

"Cold for the burns," Doumeki cautioned, but seemed willing to allow the opportunity. Most likely because there wasn't really a way or reason for Watanuki to run off now. "Borrow clothes from the chest of drawers by the washroom door." He gestured in the general direction, the stood up and returned to a corner of the room now occupied by a spare mattress, upon which the bow and a formless blob that could have been a polishing rag lay. _So much for neglect_, Watanuki thought as he headed for the washroom.

The shower was a cold, painful affair, but afterwards he was clean, which had been the main objective. Doumeki was sitting on the mattress, examining the bow as if for cracks, but looked up when the washroom door closed. "Subaru will be waiting for us," he commented, getting to his feet in a manner that suggested he was not in the best of conditions himself, as Watanuki had been suspecting. "Also, these are for you." He extended an object that upon fingertip inspection proved to be a pair of glasses. "Not prescription, but they should at least help."

Watanuki tried them dubiously, and found this to be so – his vision was not perfect, but at least now he could see some detail. He nodded, uncomfortable with offering thanks on principle. Doumeki didn't seem to mind, and with a look of satisfaction headed for the door, looking back to make sure he was being followed out and perhaps to offer assistance, which was declined with a pointed glare.

Subaru_was_ waiting for them, looking vaguely worried and rather harried – though it was hard to tell through his cracked lenses. He smiled briefly at their approach. "It's good to see you awake," he told Watanuki. "How do the glasses work?"

"Decently," Watanuki replied in honesty. "I can see your face, at least." Subaru seemed genuinely relieved. Despite initial trepidations, it seemed, Subaru was not an unkind person. Perhaps he was merely nervous around others. He wouldn't be the only one.

"Shizuka, you know where to go, but Watanuki is in need of an escort who isn't injured. I'll accompany you two." With that, Subaru set off, letting the two younger males follow him, one at more of a hobble than anything.

"That's considerate of him," Watanuki commented.

Doumeki frowned. "It wasn't his idea," he said. "I don't think it's that kind of escort." He didn't explain further. But he ignored the glare next time Watanuki almost fell to support the escapee's weight in an infuriatingly kind manner.

--

The doctor provided was a very bland, nondescript man. He seemed almost nonexistent, a figment of a stark white room who inspected Watanuki with the air of one who's seen worse and barely blinked. It was the most comforting experience that had happened to Watanuki since… well, waking up this morning, but that notwithstanding, since long before Kyle. While it did not reaffirm his trust of those affiliating themselves with the world of medicine, it did help convince him that things _had_ become better.

"Second and third degree burns," the man listed in a bored manner. "Skin abrasions. From how he's walking – limping – I'd surmise a hip injury. And of course the eye," he added, glancing up at Subaru at that. "I expect you'll be looking into that?"

"A specialist," Subaru replied. "Continue."

The bland doctor nodded. "All of these seem to be healing adequately. Aloe salve for the burns, and keep all wounds clean. The leg should be rested for now. A crutch may be in order." He gave Watanuki one last look before to all appearances banishing the him from his mind. "And you," he proceeded to tell Doumeki, "are lucky. These are bullet wounds, but only grazes. Mild burns, and then the one more serious bullet wound. That one seems to have been adequately treated." He sniffed. "Sumeragi, I don't need to instruct you."

Subaru shook his head. "I'm surprised the injuries were so light," he commented, seeing the bland man out. "Shizuka, you've done well."

"That's_light?!_" demanded Watanuki. "Compared to what?"

"Not being alive," offered Doumeki, attracting a frown from Subaru and indignant fury from Watanuki.

"Were you _expecting_ to die?" the latter sputtered, feeling insulted. He'd been under the impression that Doumeki, as infuriating as he was, was the one there because he was well equipped somehow to take Kyle out. As he had. But to be told that Kyle wasn't important to warrant sending someone expected to succeed – what did that say about Watanuki's importance? Or Doumeki's, for that matter – not that it _did_ matter, but even so…

Doumeki said nothing, looking vaguely perplexed of all things. "The details of the case are confidential," Subaru spoke up. "And you, having worked for Dr Kyle Reed in the past, are definitely not one with license to hear them. It would be a danger for all concerned."

"We can trust him," Doumeki replied before Watanuki could sputter a retort. Subaru made a doubtful noise but did not pursue the matter further. Unfortunately for Watanuki's peace of mind, the subject of_why_ was not broached again. He still felt more than a little irritated about not only his case not being important enough to warrant a proper inquiry, but also Subaru's outright dismissal and unspoken condemnations that he had worked for Kyle willfully.

Subaru did not seem to notice, though he did seem amused by Doumeki for some reason. "You should make your report," he told his subordinate. "I'll watch Watanuki."

For a moment, Watanuki was almost positive that Doumeki would refuse. But then the agent nodded briefly, glanced at the escapee with some unreadable expression, and exited the room. The door closed decisively behind him and Watanuki had the curious feeling that an important decision had been made.

Silence reigned in the room for a moment as Subaru eyed Watanuki and vice versa. Finally the former broke it. "I'm sorry if what I said was extreme," he said. "Times are dangerous. It's difficult to know who to trust."

"How do I know I can trust _you_, then?" Watanuki felt obligated to point out.

Subaru smiled tiredly. "You don't, I suppose." He walked over to another door which when opened offered a glimpse of various pieces of medical equipment, and after some survey pulled out a pair of crutches as recommended by the bland doctor. "Can you get around on these?"

"Of course I can," snapped Watanuki.

About to say something, Subaru froze as his pocket emitted a buzzing sound. He pulled out a small piece of technology and studied it before sighing unhappily. "I'll have to leave you for a moment," he explained. "Please stay put, and either I or Shizuka will return for you." With that he exited through a third door.

Watanuki stared after him for a moment, inflamed by the assumption that he would simply do as asked. He stood up, leaning carefully onto his crutches and testing his mobility. The crutches, he noted, were all but silent if he was careful. It would be possible to walk around without being heard, given favourable conditions. Like a conversation. And he wanted to know something about what was going on here, if he was going to be thrown into the politics of this place as it seemed he would be. It would be a smart thing if he were to follow Subaru and find out what exactly was so urgent.

Cautiously he eased the door open and slipped through, setting crutches down gently on the poured concrete floor of this room. It seemed like some sort of storage, but another door led out. Watanuki made his way across to it and listened carefully. There were very faint voices, but they didn't seem near, so he pulled himself through. At that moment, footsteps sounded, and he ducked into another door and waited, heart beating quickly.

"-don't see why this is necessary…" That was Subaru's voice, though with more uncertainty than usual and – was that a hint of pleading?

"He already knew too much," another man – a familiar voice, for some reason – said warningly. "Now he knows even more. He mentioned Clow Reed in his report. And the Project."

With a start, Watanuki realised that they must be talking about Doumeki. And whatever this meant, it could not be good. Whoever the man was, he seemed ruthless – and Subaru obviously worked somewhere under his command.

"He wouldn't betray us," Subaru began.

"Like you wouldn't betray him?" the other man responded in apparent amusement. Now they moved into view from the crack in the door, and Watanuki saw vaguely wavy black hair and the same insignia from Subaru's car on an arm band. The man seemed to be stroking Subaru's cheek, and Subaru…didn't seem to mind.

_That explains so much and so little_, Watanuki thought, more concerned for the fact that this man had an obvious control over Subaru than the fact that Subaru didn't mind. As he saw it, preferences meant very little when the world was out to kill him.

"Seishirou…" Subaru tried to begin again.

"We tried the indirect method, and he survived. On the upside, Kyle did not. But obviously he has more resilience than we expected." Seishirou, if that was the man's name, turned and backed Subaru against the wall.

"About that Watanuki…"

"It's doubtful that Kyle got his hands on the real thing. But the name similarity is…striking. It would be rather ironic if it happened to be the real thing." Seishirou chuckled in an unsettlingly malicious manner. "I'll take a look at him and make sure. Unfortunately for Shizuka, that would not be a reason to keep him – particularly if as you say, there seems to be a friendship between the two."

_There is no such thing!_ a very small portion of Watanuki fumed, but the rest was far more concerned about the significance of Seishirou's words. What did he mean, 'the real thing'? What did they mean to do with him – and with Doumeki?

"Come back to my office, Subaru," Seishirou continued. "This time, I will be specific, and I expect you to carry out my instructions without fail." With that he released the smaller man and walked out of sight. Subaru looked dazed for a moment, and then followed suit, leaving the concealed Watanuki staring after them in mixed fear, horror, and overwhelming desire to get out of this place as quickly as possible. He'd thought this place was safe – apparently he'd merely been pulled into a trap.

He had to warn Doumeki. It would be repayment for one of the times the agent had saved _him_ from various scrapes. And then they would get the hell away, before the contents of Seishirou's specific instructions came to light.


	17. A Piece of The Whole

_Augh. I am so sorry it took so long. My memory persists in atrocity, I fear._

* * *

Watanuki had originally planned to return to the room and wait there for Doumeki, but there was no sense in going somewhere that Subaru or Seishirou could actually find him. He could find Doumeki himself, now that he could walk for distanced at a time without significant pain. Besides, he didn't want the agent to be somewhere predictable either when they tried to kill him.

It wasn't that Doumeki was even that great a guy, or that he'd saved Watanuki a few too many times than was comfortable. But… they'd been through life-altering and dangerous events together. Even if they weren't exactly friends or on the best of terms – or would ever be, for that matter – it fit that they should stick together. Watanuki certainly had no one else he could count on to have no malicious intent toward him, and as things stood, Doumeki seemed to be in a similar condition. By that thinking, this was the best option for all concerned – personal preferences be damned.

Now to find him, though.

Watanuki wandered through empty hallway after empty hallway. The first few people he did run into cause him no little amount of shock, but it became apparent that few people actually expected to run into people that they actually knew here, for encounters with strangers seemed commonplace. He wasn't stopped as he continued on his search, and was even pointed in the direction of the reports room by a few helpful agent-trainees.

The room was deserted of both Doumeki and potential threats as he slunk inside, and no voices could be heard. Nevertheless, Watanuki winced as his crutches induced creaks in the floor, which was wooden and seemingly much older than that of the rest of the rest of the building. Less durable, as well. But as should have been expected, no one appeared. The escapee exhaled slowly and made his way to a desk. His original intention had been to find and warn Doumeki, true… but perhaps here he could locate a clue as to what Subaru and Seishirou had been hinting at. What was 'the real one', and did it have anything to do with Project LSD?

Behind the desk was a shelf of books. One seemed displaced; it stuck out a bit. Wondering if this had been recently filed, Watanuki pulled at it, and the whole shelf slid put and away. Behind it was a door. Presumably a secret door, unless bookshelves were commonly used as door adornments in high society. Maybe they were. It was unlikely, though, and with a feeling that finally he was going to discover something important, he opened the door and peered inside.

It was a square room, and full of shelves and boxes. Each box seemed to contain folders of paper; upon closer inspection they were listed in English by name or case. With a suspicion already, Watanuki looked under first 'K', then 'R'. The file he wanted, however, was absent. That was no help.

After some thought, he limped over to the 'W' section, and was slightly discomfited to find his own last name there. All that was there, however, was a memo: _See under Reed._

_That's no help,_ mused Watanuki, but he went and checked again. 'Reed, Kyle' had no information, but near it were two overstuffed files – 'Reed, Clow' and 'Reed, Fei Wong'. He was certain he'd heard the names before. But maybe these Reeds were somehow connected to Kyle. Frowning in concentration, he lifted and opened the 'Reed, Clow' file and read the first page, which seemed to be in the form of a letter – or at least, part of one.

_The second Project is coming along, though not quite as I had envisioned. For one thing, I had not imagined such personality, even at so young an age. I am glad I had the forethought to create two, for I am sure that the second would not have an easy development in solitary circumstances. For now, the first is functioning admirably, and I have high hopes for both Projects to work in tandem in the near future._

_Doctor Mihara, much as he detests the title, has been of great technical assistance. He assures me that should my original structural plans fail, his constructions will be able to take both special functions and memory without a problem. Moreover, he has helped name both Projects, though I fear I cannot disclose the nature of these names yet. Rest assured, my dear, that they will suit the purpose very well. Though I fear you doubt my morals, you have informed me on many an occasion that my creative spring shall never run dry._

_The emergency transport plans are readied to be implemented_…

The letter broke off, and part of the way down the rest of the page read a note: _[code has switched. Transcription due to begin when interpreted_. Watanuki flipped the page, but found no continuation. The next page was a diagram of some machine. It reminded him of one of Kyle's contraptions. With a nauseous feeling emerging in his stomach, he quickly flipped a few pages onward, to find a page of what looked like analysis. A line about halfway through caught his eye:

_P1 now in hands of FWR. No sign of P2, presumed deconstructed. Contacts A and D currently tracked; I and M remain missing. No further names known._

This wasn't helping. With a sigh, Watanuki closed the 'Reed, Clow' file and replaced it. He almost didn't bother with 'Reed, Fei Wong,' but figured that he might as well go through the whole process. This time he opened to the last page, which was a brief report.

_FWR is definitely in possession of part of CR's experiment, as evidenced by what little I have discovered of his so-called 'Project LSD'. It has, as we suspected, nothing to do with the drug. I have not figured out what it does entail, but will focus on this lack of information with good speed. FWR remains in full faith of my loyalty, though I doubt this will remain the case._

_Of your other inquiry, we have only managed to discover one thing. Using CR's unlocked code, the message is all gibberish until the very end, which reads "the dream must end." What 'the dream' is has not yet been decoded. S thinks it may refer to the Project LSD, while I must wonder if it is the key to another of CR's codes. I made some attempts, and after a few dead-ends, found this confusing phrase in the second line of the message: "the eye never lies."_

_Below is the map of the second floor below ground level, as accessed by S. She has been making excellent progress with hacking the servers._

Below there was indeed a map, which Watanuki studied absently. It looked nothing like the layout of Kyle's lower levels. On a whim, he carefully folded the missive and slipped it into a seam inside of his shirt, out of sight. He replaced the 'Reed, Fei Wong' file with as much care as he had the previous, and after a moment more of thought moved on to two letters before in the English alphabet. This section was vast, but after some searching, the appropriate file was located. He reached for it…

"What are _you_ doing here?" asked a familiar voice. Watanuki froze, then slowly turned.

"Doumeki?" he asked, squinting at the figure in the doorway. "I was looking for you…" He trailed off in vague horror at the open statement. It wouldn't do to allow the agent to think he was of enough importance to be actively sought.

Doumeki leveled him one of those Looks – the one that read "you're not telling the whole truth, and we both know it" – but stepped in without any motions to pull Watanuki out or summon anyone else. Though, Watanuki considered, it wouldn't have been very in-character if he had. "How did you get into this room?" he asked.

"There was a loose book," Watanuki admitted. "I looked at it, and the shelf slid away. I didn't _mean_ to!" he added indignantly when Doumeki raised both eyebrows in skepticism.

But the agent delivered no reprimands. "I never knew where the reports were kept," he said instead, striding over to another shelf and examining the listed subjects. Watanuki glanced at him a few times, surprised that there seemed to be no issue, and then returned to the file he had been about to look through.

_Project LSD is a highly confidential series of experiments and procedures developed by Fei Wong Reed after Dr Clow Reed's work, and therefore most likely involves biological construction. From conversation and information gathered, it looks to be a research into a fail proof method to heal or restore the human body. Stem cells are most likely involved, given the hospitals that Reed has contacted. _

_Verified contributors to the project are Reed, both Dr Reeds, Dr Miharu, Dr Sakurazuka, and three others known merely as A, D, and I. Code suggested. No further knowledge on the latter three._

_Fei Wong Reed has invited several other scientists and doctors of prowess but little notoriety to work with him, but they have all vanished. Whether or not this was due to covert travel or assassination is unknown._

This wasn't helping. He flipped through, but everything seemed to be more about references and those involved. Nothing about the actual process, nothing about what Kyle was trying to replicate. With a sigh, he closed the file and returned it to the box from whence it came. This was getting him nowhere. He might as well give it up for now – and he still hadn't warned Doumeki. Now seemed a good time for that.

"I heard something…" Watanuki began. The agent looked up from his reading. "When Subaru was watching me, he got called away, I think. But he had to leave. I was… annoyed, and curious, so I followed."

"You followed him," Doumeki repeated.

"That's what I said, you idiot," Watanuki told him irritably. "Can I finish the story now?" Without waiting for a response, he continued. "He was talking to this other guy. Seishirou was his name, I think. It seemed like he was Subaru's superior. But they were talking about how their attempt to get rid of you had failed, and Seishirou was insisting that this time they had to be direct. And Subaru tried to say you wouldn't betray them, but Seishirou replied, 'Like you wouldn't betray him?', and then Subaru gave in. It seemed like it wasn't the first time."

Doumeki was staring at him in a mixture of incredulous surprise and skepticism. "Subaru wouldn't do that," he replied.

"I'm telling you what I heard," Watanuki snapped. This wasn't quite how he'd expected it to go.

"You could have misheard," Doumeki replied. "Sakurazuka might have said something like that, but Subaru wouldn't."

"I was right next to them," the escapee insisted. "I heard every word!"

"Then Subaru was lying," the agent concluded. "He's like family. He wouldn't try to kill me." The expression on his face was less inscrutable than usual, and unhappiness was apparent. Watanuki found himself growing angry at the outright rejection of a warning that was supposed to be helpful. Was Doumeki going to take Subaru's word over his? Was Watanuki just not that important – or trustworthy?

"Fine, don't believe me," he huffed. "I mean, I did work for Dr Kyle._Obviously_ I'm not trustworthy at all."

Doumeki eyed him for a moment before speaking again, and his face betrayed nothing. "I thought I told you not to call him that," he finally responded, tone equally unreadable. Watanuki wondered for a moment if this was it, but then to his surprise the agent spoke again. "And I already said that I trusted you," he said, voice quiet and vaguely admonishing.

To his horror, Watanuki found himself feeling relieved. Did it _matter_ at all, whether Doumeki trusted him or not? Irritated with himself now, he turned back to the file in an effort to distract himself. "I wish they'd be more specific about this," he muttered. "What _is_ it?"

"What is what?" Doumeki inquired, having replaced the file he'd been perusing.

"Project LSD," Watanuki replied. "Kyle was always making references to it, and I want to know what it was. And it's mentioned in both Fei Wong and Clow Reed's files. I wish I knew who they actually were…" He looked back at Doumeki, struck with a sudden idea. "Do you?"

The agent frowned ever so slightly. "Not enough," he said. "I know something about Fei Wong Reed. And that the late Clow Reed was a famous geneticist." He moved to peer over Watanuki's shoulder at the file.

"So he's dead?" Watanuki asked. "So much for that. I wonder if he's related to Kyle."

Without responding, or even apologizing for the intrusion of personal space, Doumeki flipped a few pages toward the front, discovering an index of all things, and then turned to the appropriate part of the file. "It's about biological construction and genetic modification," he remarked into Watanuki's ear. "More specifically, using a previously designed biological construct as a mirror to create a renewing human body."

Watanuki stared back at him. "Since when do you use vocabulary like that?" he demanded.

"I'm reading it," Doumeki replied, pointing at the appropriate paragraph.

_Project LSD looks to involve a study of biological construction and genetic modification, modeled off of the work of Dr Clow Reed. Mirroring a previously designed biological construct (of Dr Reed's design, it is believed) Fei Wong seeks to create a renewing human body as many believe Dr Clow Reed once did._

"What do they mean by 'biological construct'?" Watanuki asked.

"Artificially created living thing," Doumeki hazarded a guess. "A step beyond prosthetics."

_The tests I observed conducted upon the construct were repeated upon other subjects, and the results were drastically different. Only one of the 'normal' test subjects survived, and in such a condition as did not speak well for continued survival. The construct had no problem recovering swiftly – more swiftly than any regular human, even from such minor wounds as it sustained._

The agent was staring at Watanuki, now. "That sounds familiar," he said slowly. Watanuki with a sinking feeling began to realize exactly what was meant, and shook his head.

"I'm not a…'construct'," he protested. "I had parents once." He looked back down at the text. "Kyle must have been changing the process so that it works on regular humans."

Doumeki looked skeptical once again. "He said you were the only one of his assistants who reacted well to the tests."

"But there were only two constructs, and one of them's been destroyed anyway!" Watanuki protested. "The other one is already in that Fei Wong guy's hands. It's impossible, I tell you!"

The agent remained unconvinced, but before he could get another word in edgewise, the unmistakable sound of voices came from the wall nearest them. Watanuki looked back at the yet open door, and down at the file in his hands. Making up his mind, he tucked it under one arm and swung forward on his crutches toward the door. Doumeki followed behind, closing the door behind them. Inside the records room, conversation could be heard, though it was muffled.

The shelf after a few moments rolled back into place, and Doumeki glanced at the file. "We'll have to replace that before it's found."

"I'm going to prove you wrong," Watanuki insisted.

"About you, or Subaru?" the agent replied in an amused fashion.

"Both," Watanuki promised.

A sound like the unlocking of a door was heard. "Do that somewhere else," Doumeki suggested, and together they made a hasty exit.


	18. A Chink in the Wall

_Seishirou is one creepy bastard._

_And yes, you should be confused. You should be **very**__ confused. _

* * *

The rest of the day was spent back in Doumeki's room. At first Watanuki had protested, not wanting to return somewhere predictable, but the agent made the excellent point that if Subaru really was betraying them, he would not be aware of the fact that his plans had been discovered. There was no point in announcing their full intention to escape before they even knew what to do, anyway. The escapee gave in to overabundant logic and followed Doumeki's lead, and instead of making a hasty escape they read over the file. Between the two of them, it seemed likely that more would be found. 

The afternoon passed surprisingly quickly, and before Watanuki noticed the time going by he was yawning. A quick glance at the window surprised him; it was pitch black outside. "Did you find anything new?" he asked sleepily. Doumeki raised his eyes, looking rather worn himself.

"Nothing," the agent replied. "You can look again tomorrow."

"What about you?" Watanuki demanded.

"I officially start work again tomorrow. I'll have to leave early in the morning."

The escapee glanced forlornly down at the mattress, not wanting to give up for the day but feeling very tired now that he realised it. "That's no use," he muttered. "I suppose you'll want your actual bed back." He rather hoped that Doumeki wouldn't – the spare mattress did not look quite so comfortable as the permanent fixture. Not that either was anything to complain about, but still… it was a novelty Watanuki clung to, childishly as it was.

"It's easier if we don't switch back," Doumeki replied with a shrug, pulling some nightclothes from the clothes drawers. "Tomorrow, ask someone to get you clothes in your size," he added as if it only then had occurred to him. Maybe it had. Clothes had not been high on either of their priority lists today.

"Is it safe?" Watanuki wanted to know.

"As long as you don't advertise the fact that you have suspicions," Doumeki replied. "From what you described, it doesn't sound like Sakurazuka wants you dead."

"Right," Watanuki replied. He almost added, "Try not to get killed," but realised that not only did he not want to say anything like that to _Doumeki_ of all people, he also had no interest in thinking about the possibility of the agent's death. Instead he turned his attentions back to the bed, ignoring the sensation of being watched. He knew he would have to meet Doumeki's eyes if he turned around, and for some reason he really didn't want to at the moment.

After a stretched silence, the agent stood up with a rustle of bedding and after several all-but-silent footfalls entered the washroom and closed the door behind him. Relieved for reasons he did not understand, as well as the temporary and comfortable solitude, Watanuki hastily changed and climbed back into the comfort of borrowed bedding. He did not hear Doumeki returning later, sound asleep where he lay.

--

He was cold and damp, and standing among the grasses of the valley they had walked through a few days before. Watanuki blinked and surveyed his surroundings, finding them only somewhat familiar. When had he returned here? He thought to call out, but as he opened his mouth the feeling came to him that this would be a very bad idea. For whatever reason, silence was necessary.

But nothing happened, and after a while Watanuki took a tentative step forward. When nothing happened, he continued walking - any direction seemed to work. He had no idea where he was, or where his chosen direction would take him, but at least he was going somewhere.

"You must not cease to move forward," a voice said. Again, it seemed to span oceans, and Watanuki realised that again he must be dreaming. That or a spirit was nearby.

"You are dreaming," the voice said. "Watanuki Kimihiro, you must continue to walk forward. Guard your steps. Guard your sight." A wind picked up, and Watanuki began to walk faster, finally breaking into a run. Grass whipped his arms and face as he ran, and the wind chilled his extremities. "Move forward!" the voice urged.

_Does that mean my eye?_ Watanuki wondered. The speaker either heard or had anticipated the question, for xe elaborated.

"That eye holds a mark you must not reveal," the voice said.

Watanuki, still running, suddenly felt the wind die down and cease to buffet him. He slowed his steps, until he know longer ran but very quickly walked. Then he slowed further, to a meander.

"Don't stop walking!" the voice cried, earnestly. Then Watanuki woke up with a gasp.

Sunlight streamed through a window; the rain had apparently ceased sometime in the night. Doumeki too was absent, as evidenced by the poorly-made bed and short note folded on top. _Keep looking through the files, but don't let anyone see. Hide them if someone comes_.

"Does he honestly think I'm that stupid?" Watanuki wanted to know, glaring at the note. "Like I'd let anyone see that. Or in the room for that -"

It must have been some stroke of intense irony. At that moment, the door - the locked door! - swung open with a _kachak_. Watanuki stepped backwards, glad that he was away from the entrance and wishing there were another exit. He looked fearfully toward the intruder, taking in what he saw.

The intruder was a man, relatively tall and broad-shouldered. He wore square glasses, and like Subaru seemed to have a strange eye. Was it some sort of cult - or an experiment that Kyle did not wish to damage himself with? The spectacles at any rate went with the starched white lab coat and well-ordered hair. What did not fit was the expression of benevolence laced with strong hints of sociopath. This had to be Seishirou. Or at least, he had to be a doctor. It was the hints of sociopath that gave it away.

"Watanuki," the intruder greeted kindly. "I hope it isn't too early in the morning for you?"

Watanuki wanted to demand a return of his solitude with as much vehemence as possible, but remembering what Doumeki had said about not acting suspicious, he shook his head. "What -" he began, but Seishirou gave him no time to continue the thought.

The man closed the distance between them in a few long strides and took hold of Watanuki chin, tilting his head upwards. Watanuki froze, eyes widening in fear. He had no way out of whatever would happen next.

"Is that so…?" murmured Seishirou. His face gave nothing away.

Watanuki gulped. "W-what?" he asked fearfully.

Seishirou smiled then, genially but somehow conveying the worst of intentions. Belatedly Watanuki remembered the various warnings he'd had - _protect your eye_. He'd just failed in that regard - would this mean his doom?

_Calm down, Watanuki. You don't know what he means to do…even what he's looking for._

But looking back upon that conversation he'd overheard, Watanuki had the idea that whatever it was, he was most definitely at risk here. And Doumeki…

Seishirou seemed to pick up on this train of thought. "Has Shizuka explained who you might be?" he inquired. "We don't know for sure, of course… but I'm sure Subaru would easily find out." He grinned, slowly and dangerously. "I can't imagine why Shizuka would keep that from you."

"Keep what?" Watanuki demanded in spite of himself.

"So he hasn't, then?" Seishirou chuckled in a way that made Watanuki think of sharp teeth and claws hiding in the grass or just under the water. But the man did not attack - instead, he walked away, leaving a bevy of speculations and confusion in his wake.

--

Everything seemed dead here, a lull in the normal bustle. There weren't any upcoming missions, but most of the other agents were off on their own. Doumeki almost wished that he had not agreed to work today, for there was very little to do. The report had been made, and there was not much new information. It seemed to be a down day, which was not particularly comfortable. After the excitement he had only recently escaped, this place seemed dull and lifeless in comparison.

He finally gave up on trying to useful and made his way to a courtyard, where he practiced his archery on one of the gun targets. It was a useless skill for his adopted career, but he valued it nonetheless. His grandfather had been the one to first teach him, years ago, and as one of the few memories he possessed of the man he clung to it. He was reminded of Doumeki Haruka's calm instruction with every motion, which in turn settled his own mind. It was the closest he could get to meditation in this given situation.

A hand on his shoulder broke through his focus. He turned around to see Subaru behind him, looking concerned. "Shizuka…" the older man began. "I'd like to talk with you in private about matters of some importance. Especially regarding the former assistant of Kyle Reed."

Something in the wording reminded Doumeki of the conversation yesterday, and for a moment he wondered if Subaru was going to kill him now after all. But he had no proof. This could be anything. He would not assume anything until he had a reason to believe it was so. He nodded once and followed Subaru to the familiar office on the fourth story.

Subaru closed the door behind them and took a seat on one of two armchairs, gesturing for Doumeki to take the other. "You know who he is, do you not?" he asked without preamble.

"Watanuki?" Doumeki replied. "No."

Subaru looked baffled. "Surely you should have guessed…"

"I've guessed several things, but I don't know." The agent slowly lowered himself into the chair, feeling as if he was missing a very important piece of what was going on.

"The reason your grandfather left you with me…" Subaru began, looking unhappy to be the one to say it. For a moment Doumeki felt only confusion, until he realised the mistake that had been made. He almost corrected his guardian, but thought the better of it. He didn't distrust Subaru… but there was always a possibility that Watanuki was right about the man's allegiances, and Doumeki didn't want to learn this the hard way.

So he simply replied, "Is he?" and hoped that he would find out how things were very soon.


	19. A Voice in the Dark

_So. Exceedingly late again. But on the upside, I've begun actual chapter production once more. I'll try to update on Tuesday as well._

_For now, you get new characters. Or at least, a character for now._

* * *

Doumeki exited Subaru's office and hastily made his way downstairs. He took the elevator to the first floor, and then descended to the basement level by way of a small flight of stairs There he quickly passed through a short hall and into a large, dark room. Here his footfalls grew quieter, and he passed silently through the dark. Only his breath could be heard, regulated and almost sounding like words… or numbers.

His footsteps stilled decisively at the breath that could have been eighty-seven, and he reached out to touch stone. "I'm back," he murmured to (it would seem) no one in particular.

"Weren't you supposed to die?" the darkness replied.

"That was the idea," Doumeki replied, and added with some satisfaction, "I survived."

"Good," the darkness responded. "No one else talks to me."

"They've forgotten about you," Doumeki said. "You're eating well?" He slid his hand nonchalantly to the side, tripping some mechanism embedded in the stone. A grating sound, almost liked metal scraping against rock, could barely be heard. Then the agent stepped forward into the darkness where stone should have been.

"That's one thing I can still do," the darkness said listlessly. "Eat. I can also sleep, and answer questions."

"And grant wishes," added Doumeki.

"Are you saying you have a wish?"

"Only repeating what you always say."

The darkness sighed. "Beggars can't be choosers, but I wish you were more susceptible to mind games." Something shifted outside of the small area Doumeki could see. "Too bad you don't grant wishes as well."

Doumeki shrugged, more in agreement than anything else. "Something else is going on here," he said. "And there's someone I've been watching out for. He might have a wish for you."

"Bring him down here, then," the darkness drawled. "I could use someone interesting to talk to, for once. It was better when those other two were down here. They at least argued. And other things, of course, but that wouldn't have interested _you_."

"You could have left with them, you know."

The darkness chuckled grimly. "What, and be carried out? They wouldn't have made it out if I had been there to weight them down. And you're still here, after all. That's something, even if it's not much." Something shifted again, as if pulling itself into a more comfortable seated position. "Of course, if they _are_ trying to kill you, you might have to leave in a hurry."

Doumeki nodded. "Watanuki agrees with you."

"Who does?"

"The person I've been watching out for."

The darkness, if it had been visible, would have been nodding sagely. "Smart man, then. I suppose we'll see."

Nodding again, Doumeki stepped back out into the larger room. "I'll be back before that happens," he promised, and then walked away in the direction from which he'd come. All was still for a while, and then the sound of metal scraping against stone could be heard.

"I doubt that," the darkness muttered, chuckling once more.

--

Watanuki slipped out of Doumeki's quarters with an empty bag stowed under his shirt. He didn't know much about the layout here, but if he encountered any food - well, better safe than sorry. He just hoped that he didn't encounter Seishirou again. The man had been frightening in a way that suggested the presence of a danger far greater than Kyle's. The best way to deal with him would be to get out of his way as quickly as possible. Watanuki fully intended on doing so, and in this interest had gone searching for Doumeki a second time. This time, they were going to get the hell out of here, before Seishirou or anyone acted on the plans to kill them. Or worse.

By taking the direction he'd passed on yesterday and hurrying through a few halls, Watanuki managed to find what seemed to be the office area. This was not precisely where he wanted to be, but there was always a chance that Doumeki was also here.

"Are you lost?" Subaru inquired from behind him. Watanuki nearly jumped half his own height.

"What? Ah, um, well," he began, wondering if it would be a lie to say no. Probably. That was just as well. "I have no idea where I am."

Subaru smiled worriedly again. It seemed a trademark expression of his, and it didn't put Watanuki at ease at all after what he'd heard. "I'd like to talk to you, Watanuki. It's rather important."

That was probably a very bad idea. Seishirou had mentioned that Subaru would be able to see something, and Watanuki knew that whatever it was, it would not help his or Doumeki's chances of survival. But on the other hand, it might help him to know what was going on - and he probably had very little choice in the matter anyway. He didn't want to seem suspicious. So he nodded, uncomfortable but resigned.

Subaru seemed relieved. "Follow me, then." He led the way to what was presumably his office, Watanuki limping along behind him on his crutches. It would have been nice, he mused, to be able to see detail near to his face or far from it; as things were, he could see the back of Subaru's head perfectly, but everything behind or in front of it was blurred and difficult to focus on.

The office itself did not seem particularly threatening, but Watanuki could not help but feel that something was definitely up. He sat clumsily at Subaru's bidding, noting as he did that it would be difficult to get up again once he had done so. It didn't necessarily mean that this was the intent, but… he couldn't help wondering if it was. He didn't know what this man was capable of, and that was reason enough to be leery of him.

"So, Watanuki - there is something that you need to understand about this place," Subaru began. "We are not a place to find justice or vengeance. We operate on our own interests. Kyle was a threat to us, because he knew too much of what we were doing."

"Are you saying that I'm a threat?" Watanuki asked.

Subaru shook his head. "Not in the same way. But we don't know why you're alive, and we don't know what you know. You must understand why this is important, and how it keeps us from fully accepting you into our headquarters." He sighed.

"Why I'm alive?" Watanuki inquired. That at least was not dangerous information. It was merely humiliating. "Doumeki… saved me. He got me out of the blast area. Not that I couldn't have on my own, of course, if I had known there was going to be an explosion…" he trailed off. How had Doumeki known, anyway? Unless… he'd done it.

Watanuki stowed that revelation away for a better time as Subaru's eyes widened. "He saved you?" the older man asked in shock.

"Is he really _that_ unfriendly?" Watanuki inquired. Subaru stared at him for a moment.

"Unfriendly - no, not at all. But he _knows_ better than that."

Watanuki wondered if perhaps he had misheard. How could saving him have been a _bad_ thing to do? Stupid, probably, but Subaru's tone had not been one of simple admonishment. "I don't understand," he said, wondering if he even wanted to.

Subaru sighed again. "It's too late now to change things," he said. "You're fortunate to have developed a strong enough bond with Shizuka that he would do that for you."

Watanuki wanted desperately to refute this claim - he did _not_ have a strong bond with Shizuka, and even if they did have some sort of connection after all they'd been through, he was not going to explain the difference to Subaru. Besides, that might also be dangerous - look what explaining the circumstances of his continued life had done. Instead, Watanuki shrugged noncommittally and hoped the subject would change itself.

It did. "However… this could be helpful for us, in the long run. Watanuki, Dr Kyle Reed _did_ experiment upon you, I presume?" Subaru asked. Watanuki shifted uncomfortably, not really wanting to think about that. He nodded tersely and concentrated very carefully on other things, like the open window and the clouds that were rolling in outside.

"We wanted to have some record of Dr Kyle's work, but unfortunately Shizuka was unable to learn much before the situation grew out of hand," Subaru explained. "But you are living documentation. If you wouldn't mind a small examination, it would further our cause tremendously - and make Shizuka's job a lot easier."

_I don't care if Doumeki has trouble with his job_, Watanuki snapped internally, albeit a bit guiltily. The lack of information was probably caused by the fact that Doumeki had been saving him or looking after him instead of actually finding things out about Kyle's work.

"If you are all right with this, that would be very convenient for all of us," Subaru concluded. "It won't involve any damage to you, as you're not recovered." He turned to a shelf for something; Watanuki craned his neck to get a better look. For a moment he wondered what sewing had to do with anything - and then he recognised the terrifying shape of a syringe in Subaru's pale hand and panicked accordingly. By the time Subaru had turned back around, Watanuki was across the room and trying to decide if he dared make a bolt for the door by the desk - the only way out.

"What's the matter?" the older man inquired, taking a few steps toward him.

"Don't," Watanuki gasped, "don't come any closer!"

Subaru frowned. "I'm not going to hurt you, Watanuki."

"Don't touch me," the escapee all but shouted. But the older man persisted in approaching, now blocking the route to the door entirely, and the white static of panic rose in the back of Watanuki's mind and blocked out rational thought save the image of the syringe, burning deeper and deeper into his mind's eye.

--

Footsteps ahead. Doumeki paused, having a feeling he knew who was waiting for him. "What are you doing here?" asked Sakurazuka, appearing at the top of the flight of stairs and proving the agent correct.

Doumeki didn't reply. He had an excuse, one he had used before, but he preferred simply letting Sakurazuka decide for himself. There was no point in giving him a reason to suspect anything beyond what reason there already was. And if Watanuki was right…

If Watanuki was right, then right now Doumeki would have to think very fast. Because if Watanuki was right, then Sakurazuka was here to kill him.

"Doumeki Shizuka. I have something of interest to you," the owner of the company simply known as Sakura said. "I hadn't expected to find you… here."

_At all_.

Subaru might not have been part of this, which was probably why he was still alive now. But Sakurazuka was a much greater threat, and had no reason but Subaru to keep someone around who knew just a bit too much. Because Doumeki did - this he was aware of. Ever since he'd accidentally stumbled upon the bottom level quarantines, and the three forgotten prisoners - now only one - the agent had poked his nose in places he would not have thought to look before. And he'd escaped without notice for a while, until he recognised a name in a debriefing by Subaru. He didn't know much about the owner of said name - but apparently simple recognition was too much. Obviously Ashura had important ties to the Sakura company.

Or to Sakurazuka, personally.

"Join me for a moment," Sakurazuka commanded, breaking through the chain of thought. Doumeki didn't refuse. If accompanying him was probable suicide, refusing him was definite suicide. Sakurazuka was not the type of person who gave orders he did not expect to be carried out.

They went back up to the third floor, and were passing by the windows on the courtyard when miraculously, Sakurazuka's pager rang. For a moment he looked as if he was going to ignore it, but finally picked up. After a moment he replaced it and smiled.

"I'll be back, Doumeki," he said pleasantly - with the usual undertone of serial killer - and strode quickly away. "Wait here," drifted down the hall.

There was no point in trying to escape now - not while he didn't know where Watanuki was. Besides, he had an idea that he was still necessary to Sakurazuka - and as long as he had that, he had to stick around. Whatever use there was for him would no doubt relate to either Subaru or Watanuki, neither of whom Doumeki dared allow to be left alone. Subaru had very little autonomy left. Watanuki…

Doumeki suspected that that missing project _was_ Watanuki. And if that was the case, the escapee was in more danger than ever here.


	20. Tension Breaking

_Okay, late again. You get a Monday update in hopes that I don't get murdered too bloodily._

_Everyone thank Ahria for reminding me that I've been lax here._

* * *

Watanuki was caught in a rather uncomfortable situation, to say the least. But if what Subaru wanted involved injections, there was no way he would agree to it. It probably had something to do with what he'd suffered at Kyle's hands, but he was finding that the very sight of a needle was sending him into panic attacks as bad as he had struggled through in his days of indentured servitude. This he was demonstrating - or had been - in a very destructive manner each time Subaru attempted to come closer.

In the beginning Watanuki had completely lost it, but panic attacks never lasted forever and rational thought had crept back, shamefaced. By then, of course, he had wreaked havoc upon the carefully organised office corner in which he had ensconced himself, and though the method would probably continue to work, he was feeling rather mortified at his own actions. Surely there was a better way to save himself.

But this had led to him wedged behind the desk, before the window, and staring warily at Subaru who was regarding him with a similar expression.

"Watanuki, please listen to me," the older man urged, tensing as if expecting another projectile to come within range of his head. "I'm not trying to hurt you - I just want to see what has been done to you. I don't know what you've been through to inspire this reaction, but I promise that it won't happen again while I'm here." He set down the syringe very deliberately, and Watanuki slowly relaxed just enough that it would be visible.

"You said yourself that I don't know if I can trust you," he observed, surprised that he was thinking and speaking so calmly but not really wanting to question it.

"You're right," Subaru admitted once again, though now the admission seemed to sadden him. "But you trust Shizuka, don't you? He wouldn't have led you into harm's way. He's too honourable for that." He looked so sincere that Watanuki could almost forget that this was the man who had agreed to kill - or help to kill - Doumeki and agreed to subject he, Watanuki, to Seishirou's whim. Doumeki was an annoying bastard, but a trustworthy one. He wouldn't deliberately cause harm to the one he'd rescued from Kyle.

But therein lay the catch - not deliberately. But if he didn't know…

"He might have if he had reason to believe that it was a safe place," Watanuki retorted. Subaru flinched, and the escapee wondered if he had underestimated the degree of the older man's guilt. "Have you killed him yet?"

Subaru flinched again, eyes widening. "_I_ haven't…"

"Is he alive?" Watanuki rephrased, fear becoming a very tangible lump of cold iron in his lungs. If Doumeki was dead, then the escapee was out of hope. There was no way he could make his way to safety on his own. He didn't even know where safety was.

The older man sighed, almost as if in relief but more likely in resignation. "I don't know," he said quietly. "If I find out, will you in turn help me by letting the examination go through?"

"If he's alive, he has to stay that way. And so do I," Watanuki warned before he could consider what he was saying. Listening to himself in dismay, he wondered why he was doing this at all. Besides the fact that he owed Doumeki his life, of course. And the very real possibility of the agent coming back and haunting him. As well as that strange sense of comradeship - not friendship, mind - that they had somehow developed. Then again, perhaps it wasn't so strange for him to want to keep Doumeki alive, then.

Subaru was definitely looking relieved now. "I'll contact Seishirou," he said, pulling out a pager. A moment later he was speaking into it. "Sei - yes, I know - no, I had to make some arrangements - no, not - listen, please, Seishirou. Just meet me in the room we agreed on. Is Shizuka with you?" After a few moments of breath-stealing suspense, Subaru sighed in more relief. "Good. He doesn't need to be there - but part of the deal - yes, that's it. I know." With that perturbing conclusion, he pressed a button and with a beep ended the conversation. "Please come with me," he requested of Watanuki.

The escapee nodded and followed Subaru out the door and down a few halls. Eventually they entered another room, sterile and containing three things of note - an operating table, a shelf of various bits of equipment, and a large light in the center of the room. Watanuki began shaking, but clenched his teeth and forced himself to stay calm. He had promised to let the examination happen, which it could not if he were to panic. A few shaky breaths later, he had a better hold on himself and met Subaru's concerned expression with one of resignation. The stark white walls and sharp scent of bleach that filled his nostrils did little to comfort him, but at least it wasn't darkness or before a crowd.

A minute later, the door opened again and Seishirou insinuated himself in the room. He did nothing so abrupt as enter, but merely appeared as if he had been there all along, smiling his genial, frightening smile. "Well, then, Watanuki," he said, and his voice could have been a needle of itself. "Shall we begin?"

--

Doumeki paced the hall, unhappy to be here but unsure if it would be wise to follow. Sakurazuka's footsteps had not quite left hearing range when he made up his mind, however, and he easily caught up to a point where he could follow. Up glossy, utilitarian black stairs the trail took him, and through wide passages lit with cheap yellow lighting. Finally he heard the sound of a door opening and closing, and slowed down to a silent walk.

The hall he came upon was deserted, with no sign of which direction Sakurazuka had taken. But Doumeki paused in the center, and heard faint voices from a door two rooms back the way he came. Unsure what to do now, he waited outside, ready to run in if he had to. If something went wrong.

The smooth why of the door offered little purchase and after a while Doumeki had to find a new surface to rest against. The air in this hall was chilly, the product of unnecessary air conditioning. Voices in the room murmured indecipherably, but he recognised the tones easily. Subaru, Sakurazuka, and Watanuki - so whatever they were doing with him, he was alive and awake. But Watanuki was there, which boded no good. No good at all.

Then a familiar buzzing hum of electronics all but drowned out the voices, and Doumeki drew back in surprise. After watching Kyle for as long as he had, he knew that sound - the operation light, bright enough to illuminate every hidden cavity. There was only one use for it that Doumeki could think of, and he was not about to let that happen.

He had saved Watanuki from a fate full of those kinds of experiences once, and he would not let that go to waste.

Cautiously he eased the door open, to find he needn't have bothered. Both Sakurazuka and Subaru were focused solely on Watanuki, who was obviously restraining himself from… something. But he was not fighting back. For a moment, Doumeki wondered if this had been a willing decision on the other boy's part. Had he assumed incorrectly?

--

Watanuki had felt himself growing increasingly agitated as he was positioned on the table and Subaru prepared the syringe. It was an unspoken agreement between them that Subaru was the more comfortable administer of the very uncomfortable object. Seishirou was just a bit too reminiscent of Kyle - though much sophisticated, bloodthirsty Kyle. Subaru seemed… more accessible. Less like a mad scientist or mass-murderer.

But it was becoming increasingly difficult to control himself, to remind himself that this was only general anaesthetic, to tell himself that he would be all right. His knuckles clenching the smooth, cool cover of the table were white, and his jaw was beginning to ache from being clenched so tightly. But he was lucid, and in control. He could hold on a little longer.

But then Subaru turned around, and for a painfully long moment his eyes focused on the silvery sharp tip of the needle, the way it caught the light. It filled his mind again, and his futile mental cries of desired control were overwhelmed by the panic that boiled up once again, as if it had simply been waiting.

He lost control. For a moment he was struggling in his own body, unable even to see, and next he was shaken into awareness by a loud crack. Subaru had been flung backwards into the shelves, and did not move. On the sterile, white ground beneath him, something pooled brilliant crimson.

Watanuki gasped for breath, eyes widening in comprehension of what he had just done, and turned to Seishirou in fear of what he had just brought upon himself.

The man smiled, but not in a way to suggest that things were going well for either of them. "You two had Subaru's protection before," he informed the boy on the operating table. "But since you've broken your side of the bargain, I don't see a reason to uphold mine. There are consequences for your actions…"

Watanuki suddenly had the feeling that Seishirou for all his smiling nature, was actually incredibly angry – and that most of this rage was directed at Watanuki alone. He hadn't really thought that Seishirou felt any attachement to anyone, but this was apparently not true, at least in Subaru's case. While this was all well and good in theory, in practice it meant that the very intimidating and very probably bloodthirsty Seishirou would be out for revenge.

Very scared now, Watanuki opened his mouth to explain himself when several things occurred at once. First, Seishirou's smile turned pleased and pointed; Watanuki looked in the same direction that it pointed and saw – another needle, drawing away from his arm and empty of whatever it had contained. The effect was instantaneous – before he could panic again, he began slipping from consciousness. The door banged open at the same time, and someone was asking frantic questions. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but it was too late to know now, because everything had blurred together and then abruptly disappeared into some sort of suspension. Consciousness slipped from his grasp like water through a drain, and for a while he knew nothing at all.

--

"Doumeki Shizuka," Sakurazuko greeted the agent who had burst through the door at what he'd seen. "This time you're late."

"What happened to him?" Doumeki demanded, refusing to waste time with pleasantries. But Sakurazuka only laughed in a sinister sort of way and did not reply straight away.

"I take it you saw what he did to Subaru," he remarked. "It's pathetic how humans are so easily drawn to new objects of interest." The smile vanished, replaced by an almost apparent look of loathing and disgust. Doumeki moved then to stand directly between his unconscious guardian and equally unconscious charge, wanting to be in a good position to make a sudden move, should things go in a dangerous direction.

"Watanuki is an idiot for agreeing to go through with something that he knows he's afraid of," the agent said offhandedly. His voice reverberated in the small room with an almost metallic sound, sounding far more dramatic than it should have. Sakurazuka did not smile again.

"And you are a fool for sacrificing what little you had for his sake," the man said almost lazily. "Do you know why he agreed to this examination? Or that he did at all?"

"I don't," Doumeki admitted.

"He offered his willingness in exchange for your lives," Sakurazuka replied. "Yours, and his. But he failed to uphold his side of the deal when he panicked and hurt Subaru."

Doumeki knew at once what was coming, and in the pause between words made his decision quickly. He hated to leave either of them behind, but thinking reasonably, Subaru would be safe here. Despite outward appearances, Sakurazuka obviously had some sort of attachment to him – but none to Watanuki. On the contrary, the boy would stand little chance of surviving in this company.

The expected words came. "Your life is forfeit now, as it should have been a long time ago," Sakurazuka said, smile finally returning in all its bloodthirsty glory. "Subaru won't be able to help you here, unfortunately for you." He moved to pull something from a pocket in his coat, but Doumeki was faster.

The agent quickly lunged for the prone Watanuki and scooped him up with both arms before dashing for the door. Behind him Sakurazuka threw something, but if it pierced his skin or made any contact at all, Doumeki was to adrenalised to notice. He ran out and away, knowing it was only a matter of time before the defenses were mobilised. He couldn't escape the building entirely – but there was one place he could go in which both of them would be safe.

Disregarding the elevator – it was too easily a trap – he took the stairs as quickly as good sense allowed, and after about five minutes of lung-splitting running Doumeki descended into the relievingly dark basement. Here he slowed to a walk, readjusted his grip on Watanuki, and effectively disappeared as far as the rest of the people here were concerned.

They were safe for now, he knew. And fortunately, he had an ace up his sleeve.


	21. Flight

_You can blame my computer for the month-long wait. It decided that it was going to stop accepting my wireless connection, and it took ages and some ceiling-drilling to regain Internet. So Code Blue was put on hold._

_Er, I'm pretty sure this chapter has a bunch of typos. Forgive me for that too?_

_And with this chapter, Part Two ends._

* * *

All was dark when Watanuki came to, and beneath him was cold stone. What had happened to the examination that he had botched? All that he could recall was the sound of Subaru's head hitting the shelf, the freezing terror, and Seishirou's last manic grin before all had faded out.

It was too dark, but Watanuki was not going to panic yet again. He felt strangely emotionally drained - two attacks hadn't left much to surprise him. But where was he now?

He must have spoken that last thought aloud, for someone stirred nearby. Next moment, a phosphorescent light was kindled, and in its dim glow Watanuki could see Doumeki's face, rendered ghostly blue. An expression uncomfortably similar to relief was clear enough in his countenance that Watanuki couldn't write it off as a trick of the light. "Sakurazuka was angry," the agent informed him. "But we're safe here."

"I would hope so," added another voice, and Watanuki noticed then that behind Doumeki sat another man, holding a small stack of phosphorescents. Something in his appearance spoke of imprisonment – perhaps it was the gaunt face, as if he had not eaten enough for a very long time, or was sick with a great illness. A mess of hair stuck up from his scalp at odd angles, a more extreme case of permanent bed hair than even Watanuki's. He smiled darkly, and Watanuki had to wonder if this was someone with a similar life story to his. "You have a Wish, am I right?" the prisoner inquired almost wistfully; his voice was hoarse but might have been light and genial in another circumstance. "Or rather, I know you do."

"Doesn't everyone have wishes?" inquired Watanuki, mostly intended rhetorically.

"Not a wish; a Wish. Something you want more than anything. Everyone has one. Even that man up top – Sakurazuka? – even he has a wish."

"Not now," Doumeki cut in. "We need to escape first."

Watanuki was ready to deliver a tongue-lashing, but the prisoner only sighed. "How are you two planning on doing that? You're not safe going back up there, and you can't expect to make your way safely through the oubliette on your own. Even those last escapees had help." He gestured vaguely toward the darkness that surrounded them. "Unlike myself, you two will have a time limit. I imagine you'll starve easily."

Compulsively Watanuki looked down, but the floor was bare of the evidence of meals once consumed. He hadn't been able to collect much by way of provisions, and they had no water. Last time they had escaped from certain death, Doumeki had possessed that pack of necessary equipment, but they had nothing of the sort now.

"You're coming as well," the agent commented. "You know the way out, right?"

The prisoner did something of a double-take. "I might," he admitted. "But are you really taking me with you?"

"Why not?" Doumeki replied. Watanuki sensed that there was perhaps some sort of backstory here, that maybe the previous escapees that the prisoner had mentioned had not brought him along by their choice and not their inability. Or maybe Doumeki, being his usual gentlemanly self, had given him the idea that he was not appreciated or desired around. It wouldn't be surprising.

"You're the only one with two working legs, though," the prisoner said, gesturing to the place where Watanuki realised legs _should_ have been. But there was only stone floor. The prisoner was paraplegic.

"I can walk!" Watanuki objected. There was no way he was going to leave this man here now. "And I can carry the lights. That idiot can carry you, uh-"

"Fuuma," the prisoner supplied. "And you would be Watanuki." His eyes seemed to glint at the name, but perhaps it was only the movement of the light. "In that case, we should go now – to have as much of a head start as possible."

Watanuki found that his protest had not been quite as true as he pretended – though he could keep up with Doumeki carrying Fuuma, his hip quickly began to ache sharply with every alternating step. The few days of rest had healed it considerably – but not enough to make movement anything near easy. Still, he said nothing – leg pain was surely better than no legs at all.

The oubliette, as Fuuma called it, was pitch black and made of more stone. Doumeki explained in his customarily verbose manner that they were in actuality underneath the buildings that they were in the process of escaping, and that this place had existed long before the upper floors. Watanuki of course did not care at all, though it might have been interesting in other circumstances – if, say, they had not been fleeing for their lives and it had not been Doumeki explaining this. The only way that this mattered now was that the floor and walls were all stone, and the air was cold and damp and smelled of dust and something mildewy.

The walls were also slimy to the touch, as Watanuki discovered firsthand when he finally could not take the hip pain and sought to alleviate it. He subsequently jumped back and into Doumeki's side, nearly sending the agent into the wall on the other side of the passageway. When asked unnecessarily about his wellbeing, Watanuki muttered something about how it should have been obvious and thereafter was sure to stay as close to absolute center as possible.

Fuuma didn't attempt to make conversation beyond giving directions, but his silence seemed rather enforced. He probably had known Doumeki for a while and didn't know better. Or maybe it was an attempt to minimise sound – something of a futile gesture, as the echo made every footstep three times the volume it should have been.

It must have been hours that they walked through the maze of an oubliette. The surroundings never changed – always dark, damp, stony – and after a while Watanuki began to wonder if Fuuma really did know where he was leading them. Dehydration was beginning to kick in, and Watanuki's head was beginning to distract him from the ever-present hip pain with an ache of its own. But the directions continued without falter, and Doumeki never said anything about doubts. And despite all his flaws, Doumeki was a reliable source of reasonable thinking in this sort of situation.

It would help if he weren't always such an ass about dispensing such thinking, of course.

More time passed, unable to be calculated in this place. Watanuki's headache increased as they continued to walk, and he wondered absently how long dehydration took to kill. Would they make it out of there alive? Rational thought said yes, but rational thought also said that ghosts were a trick of the mind and that buildings containing important 'research' groups were not built over medieval dungeons. Watanuki didn't really bother much with rational thought.

"Stop," Doumeki said quietly. Watanuki would have objected, except that there was something urgent in his tone. He stopped. For a moment all was silent, and then he heard the faint sound of voices.

"Sound carries," Fuuma breathed. "Walk lightly, you two."

They sped up as silently as possible. No one dared stop again to see if the voices had ceased or grown louder. Fuuma's instructions became nudges in whichever direction was necessary at the time. More time passed, though Watanuki had no way of knowing if it was simply going slowly or not.

Then they rounded a corner and saw it – a glow of proper light. It had to be daylight - phosphorescence was much bluer than that. "That's it," Fuuma said unnecessarily. "Take a right, and then we're out. And then we're safe."

Doumeki made a noise that sounded almost disbelieving, but did not follow up on it. The three turned right, and into the sunlight. They quickened their steps the last few meters, and then up a flight of stairs, and they were out.

There was no actual sun showing, for the sky was shrouded in clouds. But the quality of light was still bright enough to make them all blink repeatedly. Instead of an urban area as Watanuki had been half-expecting, they had come out on a hill devoid of settlement. Below them was an airstrip, with a few planes parked at the edge and scattered small buildings. Nearer was the large development that was doubtlessly the very place that they had recently escaped from. On the other side of the hill were more hills, and the beginnings of what might eventually become a forest. Another time Watanuki would wonder why all these important people lived out in the middle of nowhere, but relief had hold of him now.

"We made it," Watanuki said, more to himself than anything else.

"We did," Fuuma replied brightly.

"Not yet," Doumeki commented grimly, and pointed back toward civilisation. "Run."

"Why should we –" began Watanuki, but stopped midway through the sentence as he turned to see what Doumeki had seen. They must not have been quite so cleverly secretive as they had thought – for there en masse was probably the whole of Seishirou's defense team. Watanuki didn't bother with any more specifics; he was already running, only a few steps behind Doumeki. Despite weariness and what burdens they carried, the strength of fear did wonders for strength of legs, and as the first few shots hit the ground behind them this effect increased.

They ran for the dubious cover of the pseudo-forest, hoping that it might give way to either true forest or uneven ground where they might hide or at least shelter from gunfire. Twice Watanuki had to dodge very near misses, and once Fuuma bit back a cry, though the former dared no glance to observe the damage. Every so often he did glance back to check where danger was approaching from, but each time he came close to being struck for one reason or another.

Trees did prove helpful, too some extent. But the slope steepened after a while, so that climbing was more labourious and they had to slow down. It was then that Watanuki slipped on a loose bit of shal and at that moment felt something small and solid bury itself in the calf of his already injured leg. It burned and stabbed at him when he tried to walk on it, but there was little he could do but continue. Hopefully he would not bleed to death before they could stop and deal with it.

And then he heard it; rocks slipping from above and a shot of an entirely different sort of gun. _They've come around to catch us_, Watanuki realised in despair, but then he heard shouts from below. Whoever these new attackers were, they had a fight with the men below, and not the three escapees.

"There's a hollow behind the next ridge; hide there," a gruff voice told them, and then someone rushed past Watanuki towards Seishirou's band below. The boy didn't bother to look back; he continued his uphill climb, Doumeki (still carrying Fuuma) directly behind. The few meters to the ridge seemed ten times their actual length, and the sounds from below were not comforting. But finally Watanuki reached the top and tumbled down a bit into the hollow that they had been told of.

"You're bleeding," Doumeki noted, making a more steady descent and setting Fuuma down with something of a grunt.

"I don't think we have any bandage," the legless man commented. "I got hit by a rock, but no blood."

"I'll be fine," Watanuki informed them both. It was mostly true. His leg hurt something awful, but that was hardly a new development. The only problem would be getting rid of the bullet, but he did _not_ want to think about that would refrain until there was actually something that could be done. For now, they were out of the way of the crossfire.

Fuuma frowned. "I think I recognise that voice," he mused aloud. "It seems very familiar."

"Does it belong to someone who would want to kill us?" Watanuki wanted to know. If they were still in grave danger, he wanted to know in enough time to really get worked up about it; a good angry rant would make him feel human again. But Fuuma shook his head.

"You're safe with us!" announced another new voice from the ridge above. "Those guys went running when we showed up, probably back to Sakurazuka. And we have no intention of harming friends."

Watanuki turned around to see a face he'd all but forgotten about, but there was no doubt about the identity.

_This man… looks exactly like his sister._


	22. Vessel Under Siege

_Part III! I'll reiterate the slash warning; there will definitely be romantic overtones. Don't expect anything too strong, though, for that is not the point of this story. It's only a side effect._

_And look, I'm updating on time for once!_

* * *

Watanuki was bursting with questions, but managed to hold his tongue as their rescuers dealt with the collective damage and presented a most glorious meal.

Watanuki was bursting with questions, but managed to hold his tongue as their rescuers dealt with the collective damage and presented a most glorious meal. Considering that he had only suffered half a day without food, Watanuki didn't think he should have been as hungry as he was – but his stomach didn't listen to reason. He was content to sit and eat as introductions were made.

The man who'd spoken to them first on the hill was tall and broad-shouldered, obviously native Japanese like most of the people in this part of the world. He didn't introduce himself at first, but glared meaningfully at his companion whenever the other man seemed about to do so.

The other man was definitely the more talkative of the two. He didn't look native at all, with round blue eyes and messy blonde hair, exactly like the woman back at Kyle's who had actually talked to Watanuki. He introduced himself as Fai and spoke cheerfully of nothing at all as he dispensed food among the masses. It was Fai who explained the more baffling elements of their rescue in slightly more baffling ways, like how aid had arrived (aircraft, about ten meters beyond yea rock) and how they had even known to come (magic).

Once the meal had been consumed – it didn't take very long – Watanuki had planned to ask Fai a few questions concerning the sister that _had_ to exist, but Fuuma beat him to it. "So how's free life been treating you two?" he inquired lazily. "I notice there wasn't a single 'oh, _hello_, Fuuma old buddy!' from either of you." His face was completely free of malice, but Watanuki had to wonder again about the backstory here.

It was the larger man who replied. "We've traveled incognito enough to know when other people are," he said. "It's only Fuuma, then?"

Fuuma grinned. "Absolutely right, Kurogane."

"How about you two?" Fai asked of the younger members of the party.

Watanuki had always been leery of his first name, and especially now that there were assuredly people after him. "I'm Watanuki," he said. "Thanks for helping us."

Doumeki gazed at the two newcomers for a long moment. "You know me," he said simply.

"So tell me, how'd you manage to subdue all of our pursuers?" Fuuma inquired, cutting Watanuki off once more before he could ask about the sister. "As I recall, there were more than a few. Enough to keep Shizuka here running, and that is saying something." He grinned at Doumeki, who only inclined his head the slightest amount to indicate that he'd heard.

In reply, Kurogane drew a small round metal object from his coat pocket. It did not glint in the dim daylight. Clinging to it was an acrid smell that struck a chord deep in the connections of Watanuki's memory. "This is how," the tall man said with the beginnings of a bloodthirsty smile. Not exactly sure why he was suddenly so intimidated, Watanuki edged away from that small sphere – directly into Doumeki's side. The ensuing irritation and embarrassment dispelled the unease, and when it was over the object was safely stowed in Kurogane's pocket once more.

"Gas bomb," Fai explained cheerfully. "Knocks 'em out, keeps 'em sick for a few days. It doesn't kill, though, so we need to get out of here before they report us to anyone." He winked. "We're all wanted men here, aren't we?"

"Except me," added Fuuma with a chuckle. "I'm unwanted."

There was a moment of silence that could have – would have – turned awkward very quickly, had Watanuki not had such a pressing question. "Fai, do you have a – ah, do you have a sister?"

The blonde man snorted. "Why? Like what you see?"

For a moment Kurogane's face grew stormy. "No! Th-that's not it at all!" exclaimed Watanuki; the taller man instantly calmed. "I just met a woman who looked exactly like you. She said she had a brother, and I thought – well, maybe it was…" He trailed off as Fai's face went deadly serious. "Was – is it you?"

Fai seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "I… don't have a sister," he said. "I have a brother. But as you can see, we are not the most masculine of men."

"She was a woman," Doumeki added. "But…she didn't have to always have been." He glanced at Watanuki as if unsure if this revelation was expected. "Kyle experimented."

All colour drained from Fai's face, and he winced dramatically. For Watanuki's part, this revelation was new but not shocking. But Fai, who had presumably not known about the location of his late twin – or the lateness of said twin – had not the same preconditioning for the revelation. "_Kyle Reed_ had him?" he asked in a voice that shook.

"That bastard?" Kurogane added.

Watanuki wished that Doumeki hadn't said anything, although he knew that in the end they would have had to explain what had happened. But he could've been less blunt about it. This was poor Fai's brother that they were talking about. "I met her – him – when I was in Kyle's possession myself," Watanuki replied miserably. "He was the only other sane person there. And then, there was…" He trailed off, not wanting to even think about how Kyle had killed Fai's brother.

And it wasn't like he – or should it be she? – ze had really properly died. Watanuki had seen Fai's brother several times after ze had been killed, as a ghost. But after the explosion, there hadn't been a single spirit.

Doumeki, who by some unfair stroke of luck seemed to have caught on to Watanuki's train of thought, shook his head. "No one was left," he said quietly.

Fai seemed to understand, eyes going wide for a moment before he miraculously regained control of himself. "So Yuui is…"

"Dead," finished Doumeki. "He said to say goodbye to you."

"He did?" asked Fai in a voice that seemed dangerously close to cracking.

"He did?" demanded Watanuki, who had not been privy to this bit of information. When had Doumeki met Yuui? Since when did Doumeki see ghosts, anyway?

Kurogane stepped in at this point. He and Fuuma had been watching the exchange with no little concern; now he reached a hand to grasp Fai's shoulder. With a start, Watanuki realised that it wasn't flesh, but metal. A false arm.

"You know what this means," he said to Fai, a statement loaded with heavy meaning that was utterly lost on Watanuki. But apparently Fai did know, for he nodded in grim resolution. "We'll deal with that now," Kurogane continued, glancing at Fuuma.

"Kuro and I will be but a moment," said Fai in an overly bright tone for moment. But Kurogane did not comment at all about it, or the name which he apparently detested. The two walked off into the trees and out of sight.

"They'll be back," said Fuuma. "Fai and Yuui had a close connection. In a way that had nothing to do with human relationships." He seemed content to leave them with that explanation, leaning back against the rock. "But while they're gone, you two ought to fetch the aircraft. I don't think that staying here long would be a very good idea, given the circumstances."

"Let's go," said Doumeki, before Watanuki could say anything. "Fuuma's right."

"About ten meters beyond yea rock," Fuuma repeated lazily, gesturing at the appropriate piece of the landscape. "As I recall, it's aluminum and should be fairly light. The heavy stuff that normally flies in it is currently unloaded here, or off with Fai doing something of extreme importance."

Watanuki didn't think that Kurogane would have taken kindly to being referred to as dead weight, but Doumeki was pulling him off to go fetch the craft, and complaints took precedence over casual observances.

"I know where we're going!" Watanuki snapped at the unrelenting tug on his arm.

"News to me," replied Doumeki.

The aircraft was concealed cleverly under a tarp that was actually much the same colour as the surrounding earth. Whether this was due to careful doctoring or failure to wash, Watanuki had no idea – though he rather suspected the latter. At any rate, this did explain why Seishirou's seemingly uptight security had not yet found it. Underneath the tarp, the craft was a nondescript dirty gray, rusted in some places, though the faint odour of rust was mostly concealed by the stronger smell of gasoline. It was larger than Watanuki had suspected, though not nearly as large as the aircraft he had seen near the airstrip.

When they returned with it – the aircraft was as Fuuma had said surprisingly lightweight, incredibly easy to push – Kurogane and Fai had also rejoined Fuuma. Fai was looking just as carefree as ever. It was as if he had completely forgotten the news he had just received, or completely pulled through, but Watanuki had to wonder if that was really the case. Kurogane had not lost the worried frown.

They all helped loading the few supplies that had been pulled out – mostly food, and some boxes that looked likely to store weapons. And Fuuma, of course, who was for this point of time considered luggage according to Kurogane. Then they all wheeled it to the airstrip, and the rest of them climbed into what was actually a pretty comfortable space by Watanuki's standards. There was more than enough room in the front for two people, and then there was another compartment which Fai disappeared into as soon as he'd climbed inside.

Kurogane eyed the door that his companion had disappeared into, frowning further. "Fuuma, you can fly this, right?"

"Well, mostly," the legless man replied. "There's just the issue of feet."

"I'll copilot," Doumeki said. "I've flown something similar."

"And me?" Watanuki demanded, not wanting to be useless yet again. "What can I do?"

Kurogane regarded him for a long moment, inscrutable. It was impossible to tell if he disapproved of Watanuki, or simply didn't care one way or the other. Finally, he nodded. "Stay up front and watch the windows and mirrors. We don't know if you're gonna be chased or not." He then turned and followed Fai into the other compartment, closing the door decisively behind him. His voice, muffled, was audible but unintelligible in the front – until Fuuma started the engine, which drowned out most sound.

"Hang on," Fuuma advised cheerfully, and started the craft down the runway.

Presently Watanuki was able to clamber unsteadily to his knees, and set about staring out the windshield. He had never been in the air before. The sky, which had been uniformly gray and featureless from below, seemed a whole different entity at this height. Mountains and precipices of condensed water rose from the fluffy white masses that scudded across the sky, and from a few breaks in the topmost layer a smattering of sunbeams lit up spots upon them. Unable as he was to look down, it seemed like a different world entirely.

"There's nothing like this anywhere else," Fuuma commented casually. "Back when I had legs, I used to be a pilot. I'd take the miniplane up for hours, until I began running out of fuel. Those were the days."

"When was that?" Watanuki couldn't help but ask. He winced, hoping offense would not be taken. "I – I mean, miniplanes are – they aren't –"

Fuuma only chuckled. "I was younger than you are now," he said, "and it was almost an antique."

They lapsed into a more comfortable silence than before – if it could really be considered a silence over the din of the engine and very sounds of movement. Nothing was said, at least, and Watanuki did as asked and watched the mirrors and windshield for any sign of pursuit. For a while he saw nothing but the skyscape, which he was more than content to admire. But before long, jarring black dots could be seen in the rearview mirror, gradually getting larger as they closed in.

"There," he said, "there's someone behind us!"

"Bring her into the next gear down," Fuuma instructed Doumeki. "We'll need the engine power."

The engine roared louder than ever, about to put on a burst of speed, when Fai came bursting through the door from the other compartment. "The radar picked up a whole fleet of aircraft just ahead, coming toward us. We've got to dive, Fuuma." He pointed ahead, and sure enough the mass of dark shapes was starting to make itself apparent through the clouds.

"Oh, shit," replied Fuuma, and then the aircraft tipped toward the earth and plummeted down. For the second time Watanuki lost his balance, only preventing his smashing into the controls by grabbing onto the back of Doumeki's seat, which wasn't moving anywhere in a hurry. Doumeki himself paid very little attention, eyes locked on the controls in front of him. If nothing else did it, that would have clinched the severity of the situation in Watanuki's head; such an opportunity for ridicule was never passed up.

Looking back up, Watanuki felt his heart rocket into a speed much like that of the engine's. Above them were what looked like hundreds and hundreds of aircraft, all bearing down upon them like swarm of angry hornets. And just as he wondered how they could possibly evade capture, the sound of gunfire burst through the roar of the engine.

"They'll hit us," Doumeki said with dead certainty.

"Not yet, they won't," Fuuma replied, grinning recklessly and making a sudden swerve so that they face the huge mass of attackers. Before Watanuki could demand what was going on, the craft dipped sharply once more and they cut underneath their pursuers and away. "Hang on, you two," the pilot added. "It won't be a particularly smooth flight."

The craft sped along through cloud after cloud, and Watanuki's ears felt ready to drop off with expectancy. Any moment now…

The shot that rang out in the cloud was not what he had expected, though, and he turned to see a craft flying in from one side. There another was, coming from the other. The two craft closed in on their target, which swerved and escaped the next set of shots. Fuuma turned the speed up farther and they whizzed into the nearest cloud.

More gunshots tore through the engine's roar, this time from the rear. Then suddenly the cabin rocked, immediately succeeding a huge crash.

"We're hit!" Fuuma alerted the others, redundantly.

"Nothing major," Fai replied. "Nonetheless…" The rest of his sentence was lost as he disappeared once more into the second compartment.

There was another great crash, and then suddenly the scent of something burning. "Oh, _shit_," cursed Fuuma. "Hold tight, you two." But a third hit rocked the craft even more violently, and suddenly the air outside was screaming as they took an uncontrolled plunge. "We're going down!"


	23. Hitting the Ground

_Couple days late because I've been working like mad on a writing to further my education. But that final's over at long last. _

* * *

"We're jumping?" Watanuki cried over the engine, trying to sound more sure of his chances of survival than he currently felt he should be.

"Yes!" shouted Fuuma. "Get the door open, would you?"

Doumeki stood up to help, and together they yanked open the door. Air rushed in, and a few loose papers billowed around the compartment before blowing out. Kurogane and Fai emerged from the back, similarly equipped with parachutes. "See you on the ground!" said Fai before leaping out, vanishing quickly into the cloud that surrounded the aircraft. Kurogane hoisted Fuuma and tossed him roughly out; the legless man waved as he dropped away.

"You next," Kurogane informed Watanuki. "Get a parachute on."

Looking back for one, Watanuki discovered the very item he needed in front of his face. "It fastens in front," Doumeki told him, pointing to the same apparatus that he wore. Watanuki considered an irritable retort to explain that he could in fact put on a parachute, but figured that now was not _really_ the time. Kurogane's glare was not particularly conducive to such time wasting, either.

His fingers slipped a few times – the cold air from the open door was not helping – but Watanuki managed to fasten the parachute around his chest. He glances down, very glad that he could not see the ground below, and might have remained thus if another shot had not hit the craft. "Jump, you idiot," Doumeki said, voice oddly tense.

"I don't know how to use this thing!" Watanuki yelled back.

"You pull the strap there," Kurogane said.

"Jump," Doumeki commanded. "Or I'll push you."

"I'm going, I'm going! Don't rush me!" Watanuki snapped. Now that it came to it, he really didn't want to jump. Hurtling through the air to land somewhere mysterious far below was a rather unpleasant prospect – but then again, so was crash-landing or exploding in midair. Taking a deep breath and bracing himself, Watanuki took a step forward and jumped off.

The wind whistled around him, cold and damp and buffeting his face. He wondered if he was supposed to wait to open the parachute. Or was he supposed to open it as soon as possible? There was no way to ask now; if he looked up his could faintly see what might have been Doumeki above him, mostly obscured by cloud. How high up had they been?

He worried about this for an undefined period of time, until he heard the faint snap above that must have been Doumeki's parachute. Hurriedly he pulled at his own and was jerked up for a moment as the parachute abruptly opened. His descent very quickly slowed, but a few moments later he left the cloud and could see the ground he was approaching.

Or rather, the lake that he was approaching. It was probably directly beneath him now, though the wind seemed to be pushing him toward the far side of it. Gradually the water grew closer, as did the far shore, and for a moment he thought he was going to make it to dry land.

A rogue gust of wind met him as Watanuki began to grow closer to ground level, and pushed him back over the lake. He landed less gently than he'd been expecting and went under, suddenly immersed in the frigid lakewater. He swallowed a large gulp of it before he had the sense to close his mouth; the lake tasted just as deep and dark as it had appeared from above. Clawing his way up, he discovered something that he had not considered before: he could not swim.

He struggled further, suspended for now in water he could not navigate. Once he'd freed himself from the slowly-sinking parachute, he had better luck, but this was marginal. His chest felt tight, bloated, but he didn't dare breathe out and lose any help keeping himself afloat. The paler, reflective surface of the lake seemed nigh unreachable.

_I am _not _going to drown here_, Watanuki told himself. _Not here. Not now. Not after everything I've survived this far._

And then, as if in reply to his promise to himself, an arm wrapped itself around his torso and dragged him up to the surface of the lake. Heaving breath after a relieved breath, Watanuki didn't even care that his face and dripping head was suddenly even colder. For a few moments he bobbed there, breathing greedily as if he had to harbour what oxygen he had.

His rescuer turned out to have been Fai, who smiled reassuringly at him. "Any lasting damage?" he asked, pushing his own sopping blonde hair from his face. "We should have worn life jackets. It stands to reason that there's a lake down here."

"I'm all right," said Watanuki, trying not to let his teeth chatter or gasp too noticeably for breath. "Just cold. Thank you."

"We can't have you dying on us," Fai replied with mock solemnity. "Now, keep your chin up and push yourself forward. I'll hold onto you, don't worry."

They swam to the shore with surprising efficiency. Fai chattered about various methods of keeping oneself afloat, some of which actually helped. And the motion of swimming itself helped with the ever-pervasive cold, though by the time they were able to stand up and stagger to shore Watanuki had long lost the battle to keep his teeth from chattering.

Cold as the lakewater had been, the air was even more so now. Watanuki shivered where he stood, looking back out at the lake and wondering what would happen now.

--

For once, Doumeki was completely lost. He had no idea where they had been flying, and certainly didn't know where he'd landed. He could be anywhere. This didn't faze him much, though; it was fairly easy to subsist in the wilderness around here. The only thing that might be a problem was water, but a lake was supposedly somewhere nearby. It wasn't his own location that had him worried.

The main problem with this state of affairs was that Watanuki's location was currently unknown. There had been some wind, but Doumeki hadn't been able to tell if anyone had been caught in it. Kurogane and Fai he didn't worry about, for they were probably more adept at surviving in such situations than he was. And Fuuma, had he retained his feet, always would have landed on them. But Watanuki… though he'd lived through a lot, he didn't have a great deal of experience fending for himself.

There was still time to find him, though, and so Doumeki bundled up the parachute and set off in the direction from which he'd landed. The way was cluttered by a great deal of shrubbery and several very ferocious-looking trees that seemed determined not to let anyone through. There were no paths either, which was probably to be expected. Fortunately the trees were not too close together, and Doumeki was able to push through with relative ease.

After a few minutes of this, he encountered sand under his feet. After pushing through one last curtain of greenery, he came to the edge of the lake. The wind was up, and the water had grown choppy, but there was no sign of other people – friend or foe. Frowning, Doumeki scanned the beaches to his left and right.

About a quarter of the way around the lake, a plume of smoke rose above the trees that blocked the beach itself from view. Fire generally meant people, Doumeki knew, so he turned and began to walk along the beach toward the source of the smoke. The lake and surrounding foliage seemed oddly quiet after all the noise of the morning, and this silence was not unwelcome. But Doumeki still felt on edge.

It was as if, he mused, he couldn't be completely at ease until he had found the others – or specifically Watanuki, for reasons he had already covered. This was understandable. He _had_ been spending the better part of a few months watching out for Watanuki; perhaps it had become something of a habit. And maybe it had something to do with what Kyle had said on the day of the explosion.

"_You've developed an attachment,"_ the doctor had said.

Doumeki hadn't really thought about it. Things had been moving too quickly then, and afterwards he had mostly forgotten about it. It didn't really matter what he _felt_, as long as he did what needed to be done. But he had to admit that lately he'd been doing what needed to be done for Watanuki. So what did that mean?

It meant he'd developed an attachment, as Kyle had said. It had been a bad idea at that time, although befriending Watanuki hadn't actually ever been part of the plan. But for whatever reason, now Doumeki was glad that he had. There was something about turning the last corner and spotting the Watanuki next to the fire that made the trek through the foliage and down the beach seem like nothing important.

Growing closer, the sudden content was just as suddenly replaced with concern as he noted the rather soggy state of both Watanuki's clothing and Fai's, who had appeared from around the fire.

"You fell in the lake?" surmised Doumeki, the beginnings of a frown pushing at his mouth, demanding to show through.

"Ah, there you are!" Fai greeted him cheerfully. "We were beginning to get worried."

Doumeki raised his eyebrows slightly, unconvinced. Fai may have been, but Watanuki did not seem to reciprocate the concern that Doumeki often experienced. And true to form, Watanuki did not give any indication that this time was any different.

"Are you all right?" Doumeki asked, mostly to Watanuki, who shrugged. He seemed to be more tacit than usual, though whether this was due to the complications caused by falling in the lake on a cold day or something more complex, Doumeki could not tell. It was, however, more than a little unnerving to be out-silenced, particularly by the loud Watanuki.

"We're fine," Fai replied with the flap of his hand that had apparently not been lost since the last time he had seen Doumeki, years before.

A silence began to set in that would have been strangely awkward, had it been able to root properly. Thankfully, Kurogane chose this moment to burst forth from the forest nearby, sitting rather heavily down in the sand next to the fire. He glanced around the assembled group, narrowed his eyes, and growled, "Where's Fuuma?"

Watanuki looked up at that, surprise and faint concern written clear on his face. He glanced to his right, across the lake, and bit his lip. "He didn't fall in the lake, did he?"

"Fuuma can swim," Fai responded. "Even if he landed in the lake, he would be just fine."

Doumeki, as was probably considered normal by the others, said nothing. He was too busy feeling mildly alarmed by his reaction to Watanuki's question, which had been directed not toward Fuuma's wellbeing as it should have been but instead to the immediate concern he had witnessed. If Watanuki had been concerned for _him_, he had not shown it at all.

And that sounded suspiciously like jealousy, which was an extremely foreign emotion for Doumeki. Nor was it one he enjoyed or found productive at all, so he stamped it down and turned his thoughts instead toward the question of where Fuuma could have landed.

"He can't be too far away," Fai was saying. "I think that once Watanuki and I have dried off, we should go look for him, though. Don't you agree, Kuro-sama?"

And there it was, Doumeki thought. He'd seen that distrust in Kurogane's face before, but this time it settled. "I don't want him getting away," the taller man said, glaring in the direction that Fuuma presumably had ended up. Doumeki made a mental note to speak with Kurogane at some point. It would be good to know another person's reasons for distrusting Fuuma.

--

It took less time than Watanuki had feared to dry himself off. He was in considerably better spirits afterwards, especially beside the warmth of the fire. It was with bitter disappointment that he agreed to leave in search of Fuuma, and only the knowledge that Fuuma was sitting somewhere, unable to walk, motivated him enough to follow the others.

The climate, though chilly, was not as cold as it had seemed in soaked clothing. Watanuki made sure not to look in the least bit cold, just in case Doumeki got it in his head to notice, or worse, try to help. As they had begun to walk, he had noticed Doumeki watching him expressionlessly. This had not let up at all, and Watanuki was beginning to fear that all his efforts to seem completely comfortable were in vain.

He met Doumeki's eyes once accidentally, and from that point on endeavoured to refrain from doing so again. Apparently he had been wrong about Doumeki being 'expressionless'; there was definitely _something_ there. It was something like the look Watanuki had seen on Subaru's face, the expression of a man with an unexpected problem. But on Doumeki it seemed intensified, and so Watanuki concentrated on looking straight ahead.

He was so busy _not_ looking at Doumeki that he found himself lagging behind. This, he decided, would have to be resolved. He didn't want getting lost to be added to the list of things he had done that day.

"Is something on your mind?" he demanded. "Why are you staring at me?"

Doumeki didn't reply straight away, and even then didn't answer either question. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked.

Was that really it? Somehow Watanuki had expected something more important. "Of course I am!" he said impatiently. "I'm not _that_ fragile!"

But that seemed to satisfy Doumeki, who ceased his slightly discomfiting staring and looked back ahead, picking up speed to catch up with the others. "Good."

Hurrying up himself, Watanuki wondered what _that_ had been all about.


	24. Futility

_I apologise profusely for the long wait. (Was it the longest so far?) It was completely unintentional; I got sucked into Doctor Who fandom over the summer, and then there was getting a job and music and... anyway, I'm back on working on Code Blue. Enjoy!_

Darkness had fallen before they were able to find Fuuma, and after a while even Fai with his extraordinarily acute vision was having difficulty in seeing his way

Darkness had fallen before they were able to find Fuuma, and after a while even Fai with his extraordinarily acute vision was having difficulty in seeing his way. A consensus was reached to halt the search for the night, and another fire was built – though much smaller, to prevent it from spreading. Personally, Watanuki was concerned for their handicapped friend, but the other three did know Fuuma better than he did, and they seemed convinced that he would be all right. "It's not as if he can walk away," Kurogane added darkly.

The night was even colder than the day had been, although Watanuki supposed that this should have been no surprise. Across the fire, Fai had decided to keep himself warm by clinging to Kurogane, who surprisingly enough had not yet objected. Perhaps he was cold too. Watanuki merely huddled close to fire and thought longingly of warm beds. Falling asleep took more time than he would have liked, but eventually exhaustion won out against discomfort and he drifted off.

Halfway through the night, Watanuki woke to the roar of engines, shortly followed by the _whup-whup-whup­ _of a helicopter taking off. By the time he was fully awake, Kurogane and Fai were already standing up, staring into the night sky with shared severity.

"They've got Fuuma," Fai commented.

"Who? Seishirou's men?" Watanuki demanded, suddenly very worried for his friend.

"He waved to us as he passed by," Kurogane growled. "Nothing fazes that bastard." He continued to glare at the helicopter as it _whup-whup-whupped_ its way into the clouds that hung low to the ground, as if glaring intensely enough could bring it back.

"We should get him back," Fai commented. "It's not a good idea to leave him with those people."

"Not a good idea for whom?" Watanuki felt compelled to ask.

"Anyone," Kurogane told him ominously.

Doumeki had been silent up until then – indeed, Watanuki had been under the impression that he had still been asleep. But now Doumeki rose to his feet. "We're not going back that way," he said with an air of finality. Watanuki, who had been feeling rather apprehensive about the prospect, now felt compelled to disagree.

"We'll need Fuuma if you two want to make it to safety," Fai objected. "Sakurazuka Seishirou isn't the only threat you'll have to evade."

"I don't want him out of my sight," Kurogane added.

That apparently made Doumeki consider. "We'll part ways here," he said slowly, looking to Watanuki with what the latter recognized with a start as an unspoken question of his agreement. So he _would_ get a say in the matter, after all. Of course, this meant he would actually have to make up his mind – and despite the fact that he wanted to help Fuuma, and wanted equally to disagree with Doumeki, the thought of going back toward the situations he had just escaped did not sit at all well with him.

Finally, he said with resignation, "You two would catch them faster alone, anyway."

The others looked surprised, as if they'd all been expecting him to object. "Then it's settled," Fai concluded, cheerful once more. "In that case, Kuro-sama and I will take off immediately. You two might want to see if you can find the aircraft – there might be something inside of it that you can use."

"It fell back that way," Kurogane added, jerking his thumb back the way they'd come and glaring at Fai.

"We'll look in the morning," said Doumeki, as if he could tell that Watanuki had just been about to suggest that they go find it at once. Then he sat decisively back down on the ground where he had been sleeping. Fai saluted him and began walking off, Kurogane on his heels.

As they walked away, Watanuki could hear the latter man say, "As I've _told_ you, my – name – is – Kuro_gane_!"

"So they're just going like that?" Watanuki inquired of the world at large, but specifically Doumeki, who did not seem fazed at all. "How will we find them again?"

Doumeki looked over at him. "We won't. They'll find us, or they won't."

"But what if they don't?" Watanuki asked, trying to sound more irate and less scared than he really was. He wasn't going to let Doumeki know that he was more than a little leery of going off into the unknown, armed with only their questionable wits. Even though it did sound like too much danger for any possible comfort in the situation to remain. But he couldn't let Doumeki have this victory, as it assuredly would be, were Watanuki actually to admit to fear.

Unaware of all this inner turmoil, it was no fault of Doumeki's that he simply replied, "Then someone else will," and did not bother to explain who this other someone might be before falling back asleep. Fortunately for all concerned, Watanuki was still exhausted enough that this ominous statement did not keep him awake for more than a few minutes.

--

That morning, Watanuki awoke much more peacefully, easing out of dreamless slumber to find that Doumeki had not yet stirred from the area of ground that he had fallen asleep upon. The sky was only barely light, and everything – sky, ground, ashes from last night's fair – appeared vaguely purple. A light mist wafted over the bare ground and clung to nearby trees. In the circle of ash where the fire had been, a wind played with spurts of white-gray-blue – the same wind that that sent cold fingers down Watanuki's neck. He wished that they had not lost all of their supplies with the aircraft.

Hopefully they would be able to locate a few things of use in the craft's wreckage. If not, Watanuki had to hope that they'd be able to get by without. He didn't know exactly how, especially in their current state of maplessness. Perhaps the sleeping Doumeki would know, Watanuki thought, and prodded his companion with a foot. When he received no reply, Watanuki knelt on the uneven ground and shook him.

Doumeki opened his eyes and rolled onto his back to look up at his disturber. "We'll need sleep," he remarked with even less expression than usual.

"We've slept," Watanuki snapped, more annoyed than even Doumeki's early-morning inscrutable nature called for. Perhaps sleep was important, but… "We need to move!" he added. It was suddenly vital that they do so. Somewhere behind them was danger. Safety lay ahead, with the supplies they were sure to find, and country that was not ridden with Seishirou's watchers. Somewhere ahead lay a haven, he knew. Somewhere there was someone who did not seek to use either of them.

Though where Doumeki even fit in was still an infuriating enigma. To his credit, however, he did not question the motives behind Watanuki's impatience, but merely sat up. The unspoken 'if you insist' was clear in his somehow still completely bland expression. "Then let's go," he said.

They left intact the remains of the fire and the hollows in the ground where they had slept. Perhaps covering their trail would be smart later, but if someone was looking for them they no doubt had already found them here. It was more important to Watanuki that they get going as soon as possible, that they reach the supplies and leave this lake behind them.

The walk back to the lakeside was surprisingly short, for though they had searched for a great deal of time the day before, they had only covered a very small distance. The lake was not quite as choppy as it had been, though it still hardly resembled the still surface that it had seemed to be from above. They skirted the beaches, almost walking back into the forest to avoid any chance of a soaking – they hardly had time to stop and dry off, and it was cold enough that walking around wet was not a good idea. Watanuki's bad leg, to his surprise, did not complain at all, aside from a few tentative twinges at the beginning.

When they reached the other side, a good hour had passed and the fog showed no sign of burning off. Watanuki had to wonder what caused it – were they near the coast, or was this simply some freakish weather of the area? It made everything look distant, haunted – and he remembered spirits, and shrank inward at the brush of damp air on his face.

He'd forgotten about the former bane of his existence at the very human threats that had been consuming his attention recently, but in a very solitary place like this, with their party halved and no supplies – well, he was all too easily reminded. Watanuki hadn't seen any yet, which was odd, but could hardly last. They were bound to lurk around here somewhere. Out in the wilderness, there were always ghosts that refused to move on or could not, and were angered that they had been so thoroughly forgotten.

But the lakeshore was peaceful, undisturbed by the plaints and anger of the deceased. If there were ghosts about, they were keeping well away.

Watanuki was more than a little nervous as they left the serene beach and re-entered the forest, but their surroundings remained unpopulated as ever. By the time they reached the aircraft wreck, Doumeki had noticed Watanuki's furtive glances and seemed to be about to ask uncomfortable questions, so to cut these off the latter spoke up. "I'll check the craft," he says. "I'll be more thorough about it that _you _would."

Doumeki didn't object. "Be careful," he cautioned, before walking off to investigate some of the scattered debris.

Inside the crumpled aluminium hull of the aircraft Watanuki did not at first see anything worth saving. There was shattered plastic and plexiglass, and a few freak instruments that had managed to survive more or less intact. But nothing particularly caught his eyes until he tripped on a cord and pitched forward to collide with a splintered crate.

Bleeding where the sharp bits that littered the floor had lacerated his legs and arms, Watanuki dusted himself off with a wince and inspected the damage he'd done. Inside the crate was – clothing. And blankets, he realised with excitement. Not again would he be shivering on the dusty ground at night. And maybe if Doumeki was miraculously less irksome than usual, he could borrow one as well.

Satisfied, Watanuki bundled up the various clothing and other fabric-based objects and glanced around for a bag. He found a plastic bag only slightly torn up, containing (to his further relief) an only partially damaged first aid kit. In went the clothes, and then he picked his way back out through the split side of the craft. Doumeki was investigating the surrounding greenery for something, though what it could be Watanuki had no clue.

But Doumeki straightened as his companion approached, and in his arms was a plastic box, slightly dented in one corner but otherwise unharmed. "There's emergency rations in here," he said, not bothering with a greeting as was in keeping with his usual behaviour. "What have you got?"

"Spare clothes and blankets," Watanuki didn't _quite_ snap. It had _seemed_ like a worthy contribution until Doumeki had gone and one-upped him. But of course things had worked out this way. He had to wonder if he would ever manage to beat the other at anything. The thought was not at all pleasant, and put Watanuki into a sulk that he could not shake off as they collected a few more important and salvageable items from the wreckage. One of these was to their mutual surprise a package containing Doumeki's bow and a few arrows. This they took, since there were no other weapons beyond a knife that would be ineffective for anything but cooking.

Watanuki's bad mood hung on longer, during the hour they spent walking away from the lake until discovering a clearing that seemed amenable to the starting of a fire and making of a camp. He fumed while he collected tinder and firewood, and while Doumeki sought and found a water source, and his mood did not improve much until after they had eaten the meal he had scrounged together with a small ration of the foodstuffs they had found. After having eaten, however, he was feeling just charitable enough to regret having been so short-tempered before, but the silence had turned awkward by this point and there definitely was no way he was apologising now.

"How was, um, the food?" he asked instead, feeling immensely self-conscious and more than a little silly for it.

But Doumeki seemed to take the question seriously. "Could have used more salt," he noted without a whit of change in his expression.

"I can't exactly help that!" snapped Watanuki. "There weren't exactly bundles of the stuff all around screaming 'take me, take me!' It's not my fault the food is not up to your snobby tastes!"

"I never said it was," Doumeki replied patiently.

There was another awkward silence. To think I'm stuck with this guy for the duration of this trip! thought Watanuki rebelliously. Then again, it could _always _be worse. As far as traveling companions went, Doumeki was fairly helpful to have around, even if his personality left something to be desired – like a new personality.

But it wasn't like there was any room to be picky. And maybe someone with a different personality wouldn't have made it this far – certainly Doumeki had the kind of focus that helped in dire situations like the ones Watanuki was often ensnared in. They were stuck together now, anyway, whether they liked it or not. And despite all the annoyance and the anger and everything else that came along with it, Doumeki had saved his life more than once, so when it all came down to one Watanuki had a great deal to be thankful for.

Not that he enjoyed this fact at all.

He did have to wonder if Kurogane and Fai were all right. And Fuuma. Especially Fuuma. Despite what the others might think, Watanuki had doubts about the man's ability to survive by wits alone. Not to mention the fact that all three of them had gone back toward Seishirou's stronghold, and Seishirou had not seemed pleased with them. Not at all.

"I wonder how the others are," Watanuki mused aloud, relieved that his thoughts had taken a more comfortable course.

"No idea," replied Doumeki unhelpfully. "It's pointless to think about."

"Don't you care at all about what happens to them?!" Watanuki demanded, irked by the blasé reply he had received. "Aren't they your friends? They could be in big danger!"

But Doumeki only shrugged. "They're not my concern here," he pointed out in maddeningly reasonable tones. "They're always in danger. Right now, I'm concerned with you."

That made too much sense for Watanuki to properly appreciate, and so he settled for lying back on half of the blankets that he had found and nor replying. It would have helped, he thought, if he could have sulked, but unfortunately he could only manage vague irritation. He felt drained of energy needed for vexation, after a full day spent in Doumeki's presence.

Across the fire, his companion seemed to pick up on this. "Something wrong?" Doumeki asked, the dim light contorting the hollows of his face into something that might have resembled a frown.

"I'm fine," Watanuki muttered. "Don't know where you got the impression I wasn't. Just… just shut up, will you?"

"If you say so," Doumeki replied, and rolled over onto his side. Neither said anything else for the rest of the evening, as the light dimmed and faded completely and the fire gradually dimmed down to a glow of embers. But then again, by this time they both were fast asleep.


	25. Fancy Meeting You Here

_Special treat since I've been gone so long, and the last chapter was filler. Updates will continue to be on Tuesday, I think. Enjoy!_

* * *

The next few days came and went, leaving Watanuki with a strong sense of déjà vu. They seemed to have a great deal in common with the departure from Kyle's manor, save of course that this time they were generally uninjured and lacked a destination.

The journey itself was not particularly strenuous, however. The food that Doumeki had found probably would not have lasted long, but at this time of year there was plenty of edible flora, about which Doumeki had proved himself to be an unlikely source of information. On the second day, they encountered a stream, which Watanuki decided they would follow with the same sense of surety as when he had known that they had to move on quickly. Beyond leading them somewhere, the stream was also a source of occasional food.

Doumeki also turned out to be disgustingly proficient with his bow. Though it had seemed rather redundant in the context of self-defense, where a gun would have been much more sensible, after the first few unfortunate birds caught as they walked there had not been much room for Watanuki's complaint. He was forced to mutter sullenly that he would have no part in the skinning or plucking of anything, and glowered all the more when Doumeki simply presented him with the results of his labour.

After about four days of travel, they crested a hill and Watanuki could see the end of the forest, only about a mile or so away. Mist still clung to the forest, but this was nothing new; it had not abated since they had first crash-landed near the lake. Whatever lay beyond the forest was blurred and mysterious in the fog.

"Don't just stop here," complained Watanuki, more to drown out the sudden sense of foreboding that had gripped him. The compulsion to go on and the desire to stay away from whatever lurked beyond the treeline pulled at his head. It was Doumeki who decided him by doing as suggested and beginning to walk again, taking hold of Watanuki's arm and pulling him along behind. When the latter sputtered and protested, Doumeki simply shrugged.

"You said not to stop," he replied.

They continued on. The path began to slope sharply downwards after a few minutes, slowing them down as they tried not to slip downhill. After a while of this they were both muddy in more places than they were not, and Watanuki's glasses were becoming too grimy see through properly.

"Stop for a moment," he said, leaning against a tree and futilely wiping his hands on his pants. "I need to clean these things."

Doumeki glanced back at him. "They're going to get dirty again."

"Easy for you to say," Watanuki grumbled. "I can't see!" The inside of the jacket he wore wasn't too muddy, and took enough of the grime off to render the spectacles useful again. Satisfied, Watanuki jammed them back on his face, and stepped out after Doumeki again. "_Now_ we can –"

The earth beneath him crumbled away, and Watanuki toppled forward, catching himself with both arms and his left foot in a root that had been bared when the trail gave way. His leg ached warningly, sharply, and then he kicked it free as he rolled downhill. There was no way to stop his descent, no real way to avoid the inevitable outcome but tuck his head in and hope for the best.

His head and back collided with something hard and rough, and for a moment Watanuki saw stars. When the disorientation cleared, he observed that he'd collided with a tree, which had kept him from rolling further, and that Doumeki was making his way down the slope as quickly as possible without suffering the same fate, both bags in hand.

"Are you all right?" he asked when he drew close enough to be heard.

Watanuki snorted. "What kind of a question is that?! I just fell downhill ten meters or so, cracked my head on a tree! Do you think I'm all right?"

Doumeki shrugged. "You're yelling at me. It can't be that bad."

The worst part was that Watanuki actually didn't feel too badly. His head ached terribly, but he didn't feel at all disoriented anymore and he didn't think he had a concussion. Which was strange – shouldn't he have been in a lot more pain, given how far he had fallen?

It was probably one of those things that was better left unanswered. "Let's go," Watanuki grumbled, pulling one of the bags out of Doumeki's grasp. "The sooner we get out of the forest, the sooner I can get all this mud off."

The slope of the hillside began to gradually even out, and after about fifteen more minutes of careful hiking, Watanuki could see the edge of the forest and the soft brightness of the sky beyond it. Glancing to his left to ascertain that the river was somewhere in the vicinity, he picked up speed and jogged the rest of the way out.

Outside of the forest, the sense of foreboding returned to nibble at the edge of Watanuki's brain. The trees cut off very definitely, but for one or two gnarled specimens. Most of the ground was occupied by yellow grass, odd for this time of year, and sporadic outcroppings of dark stone. Adorning the nearest such rock was a spattering of red and gold-yellow lichen. The stream curved nearby; it was easily discernable by the amount of green that crowded at its edges.

It looked like grasslands in the midst of a drought, which could have been believable – Watanuki had no way of knowing how far they were from his old place of living. But the forest had not seemed particularly troubled by lack of water. Something was wrong here, and Watanuki had an unsettling suspicion that he knew the caliber of this problem.

He couldn't worry about that now. They had to go onward. And before that, he really needed to wash off the mud that now coated him.

Doumeki did not object to the request to make camp early, in the shadow of the nearby outcropping of rock. He likewise did not protest the command that he stay away from the river until Watanuki returned, and was dispassionately collecting wood when the latter left.

The river was surrounded by only a narrow strip of greenery, no more than a screen, and was dotted with sizeable rocks. It also flowed rather quickly for a stream of such small size, but after a short expedition Watanuki was able to locate a place where the water was relatively calm. He didn't bother undressing, simply removing his shoes and carefully stepping in.

He almost jumped out again, biting back a yelp at the frigid water. The water had never been this cold in the forest portion of the stream; this felt like snow melt. But there was nothing for it but to scrub as rapidly as possible. Once out of the water again – and twice as cold as before – Watanuki peeled off his saturated clothing and clambered into the cleaner set. He was struggling with the shirt, which clung to his damp skin, when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Who's there?" Watanuki all but shrieked, nearly tipping back into the water as he whirled to face the intruder. If this was Doumeki's idea of a joke…

It wasn't, thankfully. Two rather befuddled-looking people swathed in coats were gazing earnestly at him. "We're very sorry to bother you," said one, apparently a woman by her high voice. Her accent was distinctly foreign, though Watanuki could not place its origin. "But could you perhaps direct us to Tokyo?"

Watanuki blinked, pulling his shirt into place. He had heard the name somewhere, a long time ago, but what this 'Tokyo' was he had no idea. "What is that?" he inquired politely, having calmed down from his initial alarm.

Both strangers stared at him in a varying mixture of shock and confusion. "Tokyo. The largest city in Japan. We are in Japan, aren't we? It's just that we've got to meet someone there, and we're already rather late."

With a sinking feeling, Watanuki made himself ask. "How late are you?" He still had no idea what Tokyo was – but he was familiar with the term 'Japan'. It had been the name of the country that once had been located here, back when there had actually been regional divisions. No one bothered with them, these days, as most people generally kept to themselves. But Watanuki had met fairly old ghosts before, so it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to meet some now who dated back to the days of division.

"Oh, I've lost track by now," said the one who had been speaking. "Evan, dear, how about you?"

"I dunno," said the other in a raspy voice, as if he had been ill. "There were a lot more trees back then."

"Then all those people came here, didn't they?" responded the woman.

"Didn't last long, though."

That settled the matter, then. If there had been trees here – a plain where there were not even traces of former forest – then these two had been here far longer than a normal human's lifetime would permit. "There's no Tokyo here," he said. "If there was, it's gone now."

The two ghosts glanced at each other. "Oh," said the woman. "Well… I guess that's not an option anymore, then, is it?"

"Do you know where we could go instead?" asked the man, presumably Evan.

Watanuki considered. Fai's sister – brother – Yuui had mentioned something about moving on, or some sort of place where the dead went. "You could keep going?" he suggested. "Shuffle off this mortal coil? That sort of thing."

The couple exchanged glances again. "You're allowed to do that?" asked the woman.

"Don't see why not," replied Evan.

"Well, thank you," the woman told Watanuki. "And do be careful around these parts. The others aren't nearly so civilised as ourselves, I'm sorry to say." She smiled apologetically, and then both ghosts faded away, leaving Watanuki with widened eyes, frozen where he stood, bending down to fasten his rescued boots.

He ran back to the camp as soon as he'd finished, hair still dripping down his neck and back. Doumeki looked up from the fire-in-progress and somehow managed to ask the inevitable question without saying a word or changing his expression. "There were – well, there people there. It's not something you would understand," Watanuki muttered, sitting down on the other side of the fire and draping his wet clothes over another rock.

Doumeki gave him one of those long, inscrutable glances where it was impossible to tell where his thoughts were tending, but only that Watanuki was definitely involved somehow. "Tell me," he said presently, without dropping his eyes.

Watanuki wasn't entirely sure why he complied, especially when the truth was completely unbelievable. But it was only fair to let Doumeki know what they were up against. Whether he ignored the warning or not was out of Watanuki's control. "Ghosts," Watanuki snapped. "Dead people. I see them everywhere – or rather they see me, and for some reason they follow me or attack me or stuff like that. Anyway, there were two there, and they were nice enough to let me know that there are more who aren't very friendly. Which means they'll all be after me." He glowered at Doumeki's yet impassive expression. "Not like you're going to believe me or anything."

"I believe you," Doumeki replied.

"You what?"

"I believe you," Doumeki repeated. "I met Yuui, after you told me he died."

Watanuki was unable to form a coherent sentence for a few seconds. Doumeki, ever the skeptic, was simply accepting the idea of life after death without contest. But he'd never seen any of the ghosts at Kyle's manor, had he? "You see ghosts?" Watanuki demanded.

"No," replied Doumeki.

"But you saw Yuui!" protested Watanuki.

"It was something Yuui did," Doumeki said. "It was nothing to do with me. Is there anything you can do about unfriendly spirits?"

Thrown yet again by the sudden change in topic, Watanuki just shook his head. There were ways, of course; small rituals that he'd grown up learning from a superstitious family. Salt over the left shoulder. But they only worked for spirits who didn't have enough motivation to overcome them. If a ghost was really determined to attack, there wasn't much to stop it, beyond crossing a significant - and pure - source of running water.

"Can they hurt you?" Doumeki persisted.

"Yes," said Watanuki.

"Other people?"

"Sometimes." It depended again on the motivation; as Watanuki understood it, ghosts couldn't see most living people very clearly. Not so with Watanuki, but at least other people were generally safe from unseen threats.

"Can you see them now?"

Watanuki turned his face from the fire, to scan the land around them. There it was, the twinge that normally accompanied the appearance of ghosts or other such things. And there – in the fog, in the distance, the shadowy forms that would not resolve until they got too close. "Yes," he said, trying to ignore the fear that lit up and twisted his insides. "I can see them."

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then a branch in the fire popped and both looked down at the flames. "Do we keep going this way?" Doumeki asked.

There was no question there. "Yes."

Doumeki reached out about a foot to grip the top of his bow, perhaps in reassurance – however unlikely that seemed. "We'll have to deal with that as it comes," he said, and his expression slowly shifted to one of concentration, of concern.


	26. A Storm Breaks

_Right, and here we witness more updating failure. Though in all fairness I do have an excuse. Several. _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Watanuki's foot caught on a loose rock and for the umpteenth time that day he found himself lurching forward. He was only saved from a faceful of mud by Doumeki's unabating grip on his upper arm. He muttered something unintelligible about unpredictable terrain and where it could have been shoved, had terrain a humanoid anatomy, and very carefully did not think about how many times this had already happened. Here more than ever, Watanuki was suffering from his lack of depth perception.

His first impression of this place as a parched plain had been completely wrong. The ground was saturated, so much so that he had to struggle to keep from sinking in to his ankles with each step taken. It seemed far more likely now that the plantlife had merely rotted to death underground, and the trees by the river had been saved by the higher ground that they occupied. That still didn't explain the knarled, dying trees that dotted the floodplain, or the slightly acrid smell that had begun to collect at the back of his throat and the top of his nostrils.

Doumeki pulled back slightly, directing Watanuki around a previously unnoticed hollow. "Watch where you're going," he said.

"I _am_ watching!" grumbled Watanuki. "I was _thinking_ for a moment. Now I've forgotten where I was, thanks to you!" He sighed perhaps more audibly than was strictly necessary, steadfastly ignoring that he'd just been saved from another fall, and took a long step onto a mound of solid, partially dry earth. "And can I have my arm back?"

"No," replied Doumeki, following suit. "You'll fall again. And you said we don't have any time to lose. Another wash would lose us time."

In Watanuki's opinion, Doumeki had no business being right so often.

To make matters worse, _they_ were there, lurking in his peripheral vision like vultures around a battlefield. The farther they walked, the more semi-transparent forms gathered around, shadows in the mist. They didn't approach, but they collected around the two travelers. Waiting. For what, Watanuki didn't know – but he had a feeling that he already knew the end result. And as they amassed he could feel them, a throbbing in his skull and a clenching in his stomach. Ghosts always caused him headaches with enough ill intent, and this was a mob of them.

He glanced at Doumeki from the corner of his eye. On one level, Watanuki wanted to explain his predicament, even to his insufferable, oft-monosyllabic companion. And it was only fair to let Doumeki know what lay in store for the both of them. But on the other hand… he didn't like to let any weaknesses show. Not to anyone. If Watanuki had learned one thing from his life so far, it was that unconditional trust was nothing more than an invitation for the abuse thereof.

He _wanted_ to trust Doumeki. It seemed like it would be a good thing to trust the guy who had saved him twice from imminent death – maybe more – even if he was as infuriating as anyone might have feared. But it wasn't about what would be preferable. Some things simply could not, or should not, be disclosed.

Watanuki had learned this well. As a small child, he had at one point shared every single one of his dangerous secrets with his best friend and foster sister, an accident-prone young girl who had readily believed every tale of the supernatural. She had never harmed him – directly. But it was hardly her fault if she had happened to mention ghosts in the presence of officials from her father's employers, or if she had mentioned ever the illegally harboured foster brother. And maybe she _had_ been mentally imbalanced, but it did seem a terribly convenient excuse to have her locked away in a mental institute where she couldn't tell people other secrets, secrets that more important people than Watanuki had not wished to be revealed. Secrets that she may not even have known of. And it had seemed an unlikely coincidence, in retrospect, when a circuit had somehow shorted in the main security system in their house, and caused a great fire that burned the structure to the ground.

Watanuki had not thought these things then, as a small boy grieving for his lost family and suddenly upturned state of existence. But he thought of them now. A little slip of the tongue – so easily prevented by merely keeping everything to himself. As Kyle had not been able to act on the information he had not known, as they had not been able to find Fuuma in time but Seishirou's men had – any information withheld could change the course of things in the favour of the one who knew.

So even when his only direct danger was a growing cloud of ghosts, and the only hope Watanuki had for his continued survival lay in the hope that Doumeki would not protest unexplained flight, he had no choice _but_ to keep silent.

Doumeki probably would have had something to say about _that_.

Doumeki, Watanuki thought uncharitably, could get munched by ghosts, for all _he_ cared. Then no one would have to tell anyone anything, and Watanuki could make better time and outrun the distracted ghosts. _And then starve to death when no one reminds you to eat,_ said a treacherous mind-voice that sounded inconceivably like Doumeki himself. Watanuki ignored it. He could eat when he had reached safety.

Wherever safety was.

The thought made him feel guilty all over again, because here he was getting angry with someone who was following him to who-knew-where with only a vague idea of the risks they took. Who was going to all this trouble for Watanuki, a complete stranger not too long ago.

Not that this meant in any way, shape, or form that Doumeki didn't bring about everything he got. He definitely had. It was just that he'd also done a few useful things from time to time. This had to be worth _something_.

"Something wrong?" Doumeki asked in his typically austere manner, cutting through Watanuki's train of thought in a way that normally would have been quite annoying. Considering the current direction they were going, though, it was more like a relief – though said relief was largely overshadowed by the yet-growing reaction to the ghosts' presence and his own anxiety.

"Nothing's wrong!" snapped Watanuki in what may have been the biggest lie of his life. He could tell that Doumeki probably had a good idea of this, that he knew exactly how much to read from the statement.

"Is it the ghosts?" persisted the obliviously perceptive Doumeki.

"I said nothing's wrong!" His headache suddenly tripled in intensity, blasting at his temples, and he realised then how hard he was clenching his jaw. Forcibly Watanuki relaxed his facial muscles, but the ache did not ease up at all.

They had stopped moving forward. When had they stopped moving? Watanuki turned, locating the next solid hussock, but Doumeki had not let go of his arm and was not following, instead standing there looking more inscrutable than ever. Was he going to say something? That was probable but – this was _Doumeki_, after all…

But nothing could have led Watanuki to imagining what the other would say.

"I wish you'd trust me," Doumeki told him.

It was unfair, how much that reflected Watanuki's own thoughts. Unfair, how Doumeki the oft-silent was also so blunt. But the conclusions had already been drawn, decisions already made, and Watanuki could not afford to second-guess himself at this point. He jerked his arm loose and quickly stepped out of reach. "You could trust _me_," he said angrily – anger that was not feigned, merely redirected. "I _said_ I was fine!"

Doumeki opened his mouth, perhaps to argue, perhaps to voice another unfairly honest statement, but whatever he meant to say was lost in the sudden great roar of the gathering ghostly mob. As one they ceased in their milling around and descended upon Watanuki, shrieking and howling and effectively cutting him off from the rest of the world. He fought – or that is, he flailed furiously against the cloud of ghosts that swooped and snapped at him. But there were not the sort of ghosts that held a form; his hands passed through with little resistance and a few tatters on the edge of their forms to show for it.

There was nothing for it. He braced himself and bolted, tearing through the unsuspecting spirits in front of him and nearly turning his ankle in the mud he could not see. For one blessed second he thought he saw daylight, but then the ghosts closed in again, cutting off both light and fresh air. They _reeked_, of death and ages spent in the same place and dust. And they scraped at him, clawing the skin of his face and beneath his jaw until he felt blood dripping down his cheeks and neck. But Watanuki continued to run, lacking any sensory aid, straining his ears to hear above the spirits' moaning the sound of running water.

What he heard instead was the hiss of an arrow passing centimeters from the back of his head.

And then suddenly the ghosts behind him simply disintegrated, clearing an escape. Without thinking much, blinking blood and cold sweat out of his eyes, he bolted through the opening in the cloud of ghosts. He ran almost directly into Doumeki, who steadied him with the hand not clutching a bow.

"How did you – _what_ did you –" Watanuki gasped, staring at it.

"I shot an arrow."

"But it killed – I mean, it made the ghosts –"

Doumeki cut him off again, this time by grabbing his arm again and pulling him along. "I'm going to get the arrow," he explained. "Then we're going to run." They skirted the area where the ghosts still amassed, as if confused as to where their quarry had disappeared to, and then found the arrow where it lay in the mud. Doumeki wiped it clean on his pants, and restrung his bow. "Are they following?"

Looking back, Watanuki all but shrieked as he saw the swarm reforming, turning toward them. "Yes, they are!" he yelled.

"Run!" Doumeki urged, and then began running himself, leaving Watanuki no option but to follow suit – although he had not exactly intended to do anything else.

For a while they scrambled across the treacherous plain unhindered by anything but the landscape, but the ghosts were faster and eventually caught up. Watanuki gasped as a wave of biting cold shot through him, and then his shoulder was burning with a deeper, sharper pain than that of the wound on his face. In spite of himself he hissed with the pain of it, and Doumeki glanced over.

Eyes widening just the slightest, the archer swung his bow up and fired behind them, just missing the ghosts that scattered to avoid the arrow. "Don't break contact," Doumeki ordered, grabbing another arrow from his pack and swinging it like a knife.

"You missed," Watanuki informed him, ducking to avoid another swoop and wincing at the sharp pain in his shoulder.

"Tell me where they are," Doumeki said.

So Watanuki did. It wasn't particularly difficult, given the sheer number of ghosts surrounding them. Eventually they fell into a pattern, and Doumeki's usual frightening accuracy returned. It didn't reduce the ghosts by much, but it kept a clear path, and prevented a great deal of injuries that might have been sustained. The trouble was that every arrow shot had to be retrieved. They could not continue like this forever, although the time it did take seemed to stretch on into infinity. They could only continue on – there was nothing else they could do.

And then Watanuki heard a new sound, one that he had been listening for so intently that he did not believe it at first. But there it was: the rushing roar of water. Looking to his left, he spotted the source through the circling spirits – or rather, the line of trees and shrubbery that indicated where the river ran. Or _a_ river, as this particular branch sounded a great deal bigger.

"That way!" he shouted over the noise, and yanked at his captive wrist. Doumeki did not ask questions, but ran in the indicated direction more rapidly than before. With strength that neither had expected to find, they sprinted for the river, and when they finally climbed up between the trees and to the side of the river they did not pause at all, but plunged in. The water was icy as before, but Watanuki knew enough about spirits to know that running water was one barrier they could not pass. And the pursuing swarm indeed could not follow them, but circled the trees and howled in protest.

The two humans climbed out of the river on the opposite side and collapsed on the sandy ground. At this moment, Watanuki could not have cared less about mud or grime or wet clothes – they were out of reach of the ghosts now. He almost could not believe it. "We made it," he said aloud, voice hollow and fatigued.

There was no reply. Beside him, Doumeki propped himself up on one arm, looking at Watanuki for a moment, and then quietly and without a fuss collapsed on the sand.


	27. Any Port

_Only two days off, right? Not too bad?_

_I've been way busy with work and school, though, so the next chapter might not be done in time...hopefully it should, though. Wish me luck? And enjoy._

* * *

Doumeki woke to the single worst headache he had ever experienced, great thirst, and an ache in every inch of his body. He felt exhausted to the bone, and even the weight of his eyelids was a strain to hold. But he opened his eyes and tried to take in his surroundings – a difficult task, as night had fallen as he lay unconscious. His right side was damp where it rested on the sand, and he was cold – though not unbearably so. Somewhere past where he lay on the riverbed, Watanuki must have started a fire. It was audible, and its warmth almost reached Doumeki.

"We made it?" he croaked in a hoarse whisper, one he could barely hear himself. He rolled onto his back, carefully so as not to disturb his aching joints, and tried again. "Watanuki." Though his voice fared little better, after a few moments there were feet near his head.

Watanuki sat in the sand beside him. "What happened to you?" he asked in a surprisingly calm voice.

"I'm not used to doing whatever I did," Doumeki replied, hazarding a guess. He probably could have sat up, but there seemed to be no need yet. And this mellow mood of Watanuki's intrigued him.

No one said anything for a few moments, assumedly both contemplating the events earlier. "What you did," Watanuki eventually said, "was destroy a large number of ghosts. I don't know how you did it, but I guess you don't either."

"I shot them," Doumeki offered.

"Not what I meant." Watanuki rolled his eyes, not yet actually irritated. "I've tried things like that before. Throwing things at them, fighting them off with weapons. It never worked for me. I could see them, but I could never touch them!" His fist clenched briefly, but yet the frustration was still aimed elsewhere. This really was strange in comparison to his usual tendencies to direct any and all blame toward Doumeki when possible.

But his words gave the archer a thought. "And I can touch them in a way, but I still can't see them," he said slowly. "Maybe it's one or the other."

Watanuki grimaced. "You're saying I'll never be able to fend them off myself?"

"It's only a thought," Doumeki reminded him, and though he did not say it, both probably interpreted the unspoken: _I'll fend them off for you_.

They sat (or lay, in Doumeki's case) there on the riverbed for a few more minutes of pensive silence. Doumeki looked up at the sky overhead was relatively clear; a half moon shone valiantly down upon the river, somewhat obscured by mist. In a few areas of thinner fog, a few dim stars could be seen. And high above them, several large, puffy clouds drifted by. Doumeki wondered idly how long it had been since he'd possessed time or energy to simply look at the sky at night. He'd once done so every night, back when he had lived with his grandfather…

"There's a fire," Watanuki mentioned, looking back toward him. "And unlike you, I have _not_ been asleep all afternoon. I am going to change this."

"You didn't need to wait," Doumeki replied.

There was another pause, in which Watanuki did not meet his eyes. "I didn't wait," he finally muttered. "I had things to do. Like cleaning mud off of everything, and finding dry wood. Do you know how long that took? Nothing is dry here!"

Doumeki pushed himself into a sitting position, clenching his jaw just enough to keep himself from revealing just how much this action hurt him screaming muscles and cold-stiffened joints. "What are we doing tomorrow?" he asked from this new angle. "We can't go back."

"We don't need to. We'll just keep going on this side of the river." Watanuki's face was set with the same iron resolve that had been there for the past days of travel. Doumeki knew well enough that something was strange about this unexplained need to keep going in what seemed to be a completely random direction, but so far they had survived, and no one had come looking for them. It was likely that someone _was_ looking for them – Seishirou at least, which was nothing small – and so constantly being on the move was a good idea. So Doumeki merely watched to make sure that the direction they were taking was not leading to a bad end.

"Sleep," he advised. "I'll keep watch."

Watanuki rolled his eyes in a more exaggerated fashion than was really necessary. "Keep watch for what, mosquitoes? We're safe here, at least tonight. _I _should know."

"Only an idiot thinks he knows everything," Doumeki replied, pushing himself to his feet and nearly collapsing when he finally stood. It was amusing to see concern and outrage battle on his companion's face. Outrage seemed to be winning, but it was a close call. Still, any moment now the yelling would probably start.

But to his surprise, Watanuki extended an arm, looking away. "I'm not carrying you across the swamp," he muttered. "So you better not fall over and get hurt." When Doumeki did not immediately respond, the other huffed an exasperated breath and grabbed his arm. "Are you listening to me?"

Doumeki responded by leaning on the proffered arm only enough for it to be useful, and carefully picking his way the short distance to the fire. Out of the corner of his eye, he observed his irritated companion carefully, although he wasn't particularly sure what he was looking for. He didn't expect an explanation or telling expression to be readable on Watanuki's countenance. And indeed, if something was there, the firelight rendered his usually transparent expressions unreadable. When they reached the fire and sat again, he turned his face and openly studied Watanuki, continuing his search for… something.

Whatever it was, he found nothing, and Watanuki began to go a bit red. "Do you have to stare like that?" he demanded. "I haven't grown two heads!"

"Where are we going?" Doumeki asked suddenly, the question occurring to him in the instant. But from the sudden confusion on Watanuki's face, he knew he had hit on something important.

"What do you mean? We're getting away from Seishirou's men!" Watanuki crossed his arms.

"But where are we going?" Doumeki repeated.

Watanuki opened his mouth, perhaps to snap an answer, but froze halfway there as if the meaning behind the question had just struck him. For a few moments he stared blankly ahead, thunderstruck, and then he turned his face back to Doumeki. "We can talk about this later," he grumbled. "I need to sleep."

Which meant, Doumeki inferred, that Watanuki didn't know where they were going, either. The direction was important, but the location was completely beside the point. And they were going to run out of supplies eventually -–neither of them were experienced in fending for themselves in the wilderness beyond what they had picked up these past few days. Doumeki _had_ learned some important skills from both his grandfather and Seishirou, but under the assumption that he would only be on his own for a few days. He didn't know much at all about Watanuki's past, but if Kyle were any example of how it had been, Watanuki was just as unfamiliar to this way of life.

But there was nothing either of them could do. They couldn't go back the way they came without encountering all the dangers they had barely survived. And it was better to have a direction, even one so mysterious as theirs.

Still, Doumeki's thoughts were not pleasant or peaceful as he sat with his back to the fire and river alike, keeping watch as he'd promised.

--

Somewhere in the gray hours between night and day Watanuki woke to icy rain beginning to fall from the sky, managing to leak into his bad eye. Rubbing his damp face, he sat up and took in his surroundings: fire still burning, packs where he'd left them, surrounding boulders dappled with rain. Doumeki was leaning against one, looking almost as if he were asleep but for the fact that he turned his head when Watanuki moved.

"It's raining," Doumeki said. "We should go as soon as we can."

He was probably right, but that was not at all forgivable and so on principle Watanuki felt compelled to object. "It's always raining," he replied with not nearly enough scorn in his voice as there should have been. Of course, it was just after he'd woken up. He could work up to proper irritability later. "What makes now any different?"

"Because it's colder than usual." Standing, Doumeki looked little better than he had yesterday – and was he favouring one leg? More striking than any of that (not that a bit of pain was any concern of Watanuki's) was the look of trepidation he was currently throwing the sky. Maybe just this once it would be a good idea to go along with what Doumeki was suggesting without further protestation.

There was very little to pack up – granted, there never was much anyway – and within a few minutes there was only the soggy ring of ashes left to mark where they had spent the night. Doumeki considered it for a moment, and Watanuki followed suit, but after that moment they exchanged unconcerned glances and simply left it there, walking away in the same direction as ever.

Doumeki's trepidations were soon validated, for as they walked they were quickly soaked despite all overcoats, and the wind was even colder than the still air. And worse yet, Watanuki's chosen direction took them inexorably uphill. They left the swamp fairly quickly, but by an approximation of noon the rain was more slush than water, and soon after this snow replaced it entirely. The cloth protruding from the opening of Watanuki's waterproof coat was frozen, and snow clung to his hair and face and melted to drip down his neck.

He would have liked nothing better than to call a halt and curl up somewhere out of the elements, but there was nowhere around to avoid the snowfall, and anyway he would not admit defeat in front of Doumeki. He had his pride yet.

Within the next hour or so, though, the snow had only begun to fall faster, filling silently the drifts that the two travelers were forced to skirt with decreasing success. In some places the snow was already waist-deep; in others the tips of trees barely protruded from the surface layer. In other circumstances the landscape would have been serene, even beautiful, but being forced to trek through it had altered Watanuki's perception considerably.

Eventually Doumeki called a halt. "There's some rocks over there," he said, voice mostly lost in the wind. "We're going to wait out the storm."

"What storm?" demanded Watanuki with less venom than usual, relieved to have a respite of any sort.

"You'll see," Doumeki replied cryptically, and then he shoved Watanuki gently but pointedly in the direction of the rocky outcropping.

The rocks yielded after careful searching a small hollow, which actually turned out to be the entrance to a slightly larger cavern. Not too much snow had blown in, protected as it was by a rather solid rock wall on three and a half sides and a very solid ice wall on the top half of the fourth. The lack of wind did a little for the temperature, though not as much as two warm bodies in a small space would do very shortly.

"What now?" Watanuki asked, somewhat awkwardly. He was rather too cold and miserable to seek out grievances, and despite their current stationary status, he was actually rather relieved to be in here and not out there. The snow was swirling past the cave entrance rather more quickly now, enough so that the predicted storm didn't seem so unlikely anymore.

Next to him, Doumeki had sat down on one of the blankets, looking about as much at home as he ever did. Normally this would have been irritating, but now Watanuki found himself growing actually angry. Maybe it was the strain of travel, or concern over the storm, or simply an in-built mechanism to keep warm. Nevertheless, it was enough to enrage him. He was cold and uncomfortable and didn't know what to think about anything anymore and Doumeki was sitting there in total comfort or the appearance thereof, and murder by asphyxiation was looking like a viable option.

Watanuki, in a fit of foolish kindness, opted for a less deadly route. "_What are we doing here_?" he yelled, voice reverberating in the small space. "Less than two weeks ago we were safe behind walls, and even afterwards we had other people with us. And now here we are in a tiny hole in a rock in the middle of nowhere with a snowstorm building and _why is this_?!"

Ever unreasonably reasonable, Doumeki did not protest but simply replied, "We would have frozen up there." _And died_, he did not say, but Watanuki could hear it as clearly as if he had.

As quickly as his burst of anger had possessed him, it now fled, and Watanuki sank to his knees on the cold stone floor, feeling just about as hopeless as he ever had. He didn't say anything, but made a small noise of desperation a the complete unfairness of everything. Every time they made it to 'safety', something else seemed to go wrong. All he wanted was a respite. That was all he'd ever wanted.

"I'm tired," he mumbled brokenly.

He didn't even startle at the hand that descended upon his shoulder; nor did he look up to see what kind of expression Doumeki was wearing. Similarly he didn't protest when he was pulled in to lean against Doumeki's side, but simply allowed the transfer of his weight to something less tenuous than his own waning strength.

"Then sleep," Doumeki replied, his voice more of a rumble in Watanuki's ears than an audible sound. But after today, and all the days preceding, this was not a difficult suggestion to follow. Watanuki was already halfway there, anyway. Within a few minutes of quiet breathing, he had dropped off.

--

To say that Doumeki wasn't quite sure what he was getting himself into was an understatement, to be sure. In the very least, there would be more yelling whenever Watanuki woke up. But it had seemed like the best action at the time, and he was going to stand by his decisions. Besides, there was something infinitely comforting in knowing that at least for a short while, he was being a comfort.

Even if this was only through doubling as a pillow.

Eventually he also went to sleep; it had been a long day for him as well, and after his collapse his sleep cycle was very much out of alignment. The last thing he noticed before drifting off still sitting against the wall of the cave, listening to the howling of the wind at the opening overhead, was a shifting at his side and the point of Watanuki's nose pressed lightly into his shoulder.


End file.
